Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
Time and Dimension Travel Involving Medical Advancements, Lady's collection of PERFECT fics., Leymonaide fic recs, My heart is full, Creative Chaos Discord Recs, my heart is here, Lyrane’s treasure trove, best fanfics: naruto edition, Lost on the Road of Life, A collection of works with quality 😌💅✨, Inter-dimensional timeline tourism, LayhaC Fave Naruto Fics, Juricii's Collection of Various Stories, Wicked Wonderfull Works, THE 🎵 UBIQ 🦋 ☠ THE 🎭 UNIQUE 🌹, Naruto Time Travel Fics Rec, Fics That are the Cause of my Insomnia
Stats:
Published:
2021-03-22
Updated:
2024-05-26
Words:
112,925
Chapters:
25/32
Comments:
635
Kudos:
4,283
Bookmarks:
1,203
Hits:
121,058

A Traveller From an Antique Land

Summary:

Madara is tired of endless war.

Izuna is tired of his brothers dying.

Kakashi is very confused why he's found himself in the middle of a battlefield generations before he's supposed to be born.

AKA- Kakashi goes back in time, accidentally saves a life, and finds too much joy in tormenting Uchiha Madara

Chapter 1: In which a battle is interrupted before it can begin

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Madara was flummoxed. 

He didn't understand.  

And he didn't like not understanding. 

His grip on his tanto loosened, the step he had taken turned into a stumble, and he let out an undignified noise of surprise that he would never admit to making. 

The silver-haired man had appeared out of absolutely nowhere, with no trace of approach besides the telltale lines of a seal burned in the grass around him. Grass that was about to be soaked in the blood of Senju and Uchiha shinobi who had been one step away from throwing themselves into battle. 

The only thing that made the Uchiha patriarch feel any better was the equally dumbfounded look on the Senju on the other side of the field. Tobirama’s face was particularly amusing, a mixture of dumb shock and the distasteful disgust the servants who cleaned Izuna’s room had when they found yet another ‘romance’ novel under his brother’s bed. 

Had the situation been different, Madara would have snorted at the undignified expression on the ordinarily stone-cold albino. However, he was sure the look on his own face wasn’t particularly composed either. 

“Brother, what...” Izuna’s incredulous enquiry came from beside him, his sharingan activated and fixed on the strange newcomer.  

Madara had no response for his brother and instead turned to study the stronger with his own enhanced vision. The adrenaline flowing through him created a buzz that itched under his skin. Only his carefully built control prevented him from simply attacking, not trusting the intentions of someone who appeared unannounced in the middle of a battlefield. Instead, he forced himself to look

The man was tall, he noted disdainfully, well taller than himself at least. Not that Madara was short. Cause he wasn’t.  

(It wasn’t his fault that Uchiha tended to be shorter than idiotically giant Senju. Dammit, Hashirama he wasn't short!) 

But this man was tall even by Senju standards, and wiry, Madara observed. Built to run and dodge, probably lightning-quick in battle.  

Madara knew he was a shinobi, even as the stronger looked around incredulously, seemingly just as confused as they all were by popping out of nowhere, he held himself with a wary posture that Madara saw mirrored in too many of his clansmen and women. 

He also had a hitai-ate with what seemed to be a stylised leaf slanted over one eye; the uncovered eye was darting between the two groups on either side of the wide field and was an unsettling grey colour that Madara hadn’t seen before. 

The colour of storm clouds, he noted absently, or the Naka river after it rained when it could sweep even the strongest swimmers away if they fell in. 

“Ah”, the stranger started, seeming to have finally taken account of the situation, “Sorry to have crashed your battle. I’ll be going now, you can continue!”  

He gave a crinkle of his eye that could have been a smile, not that Madara could tell with the black mask that covered the strange shinobi's mouth and nose. 

He prodded a soldering line of grass in front of him with his foot before shrugging and began to stroll leisurely away, leaving both Senju and Uchiha to track him with wide eyes.  

“Ah, Shinobi-san, what,” Hashirama paused, lost for words for one goddammed moment in his life, “I mean, how did you...” 

The silver-haired man tilted his head consideringly, pausing an even distance between the edge of the Senju and Uchiha front lines. “Well, you see, I got lost on the road to life and a very nice old man was kind enough to shove me in the right direction.”  

He wiggled his fingers at them before poofing out of sight.  

Madara stared dumbfounded at the place the strange man had been.  

“Is this some ploy to distract us, Senju?” Izuna snarled, red and black eyes swirling dangerously. 

Having recovered his composure, Tobirama sneered back at him, “I would expect this hair-brained scheme to be your doing instead, Uchiha.” 

The wind picked up, bringing the scent of burnt grass swirling around the Uchiha ranks. Madara sniffed, catching not only the expected smell of smoke but also ozone and something too close to death to be comfortable. The smell of blood and iron was familiar to him but unexpected as the fighting today had yet to begin. 

He looked across the field to catch Hashirama’s eye. His old friend looked thoughtful and was conferring quietly with his brother, who had stopped spitting insults at Izuna. Seeing Madara’s gaze, the Senju gave a tiny shake of his head.  

So, the mysterious shinobi wasn’t their doing either. 

Madara sighed; as bizarre as the appearance was, they still had a war to fight. Too many had died just for them to call it a day because of some silver-haired weirdo.  

He didn’t like war. He hated thinking about his role in perpetuating the violent cycles that had taken over their clans. He hated that he was so good at it. 

The scariest thought was that he didn’t even remember why they started fighting in the first place, just that they fought because of their friends and family that the Senju had killed, and that the Senju fought because of their friends and family the Uchiha had killed in turn.  

Of course, there were stories of why the two great clans started fighting, but they varied depending on who you asked. Everything from something as simple as a land dispute to one outlandish tale about a Uchiha duck and the Senju’s precious greenhouse that Madara once heard from the blacksmith's batty old mother.  

Madara didn’t know why they started fighting. All he knew was that he wanted to stop.  

Unfortunately, this was not the right place for musings of peace.  

“Brother, we should strike now while they're still discussing.” Izuna hissed in his ear, twisting his fingers around his katana in anticipation, a wild grin stretching his lips into an expression Madara thought was way too bloodthirsty to suit his little brother. When did Izuna begin to look forward to killing, he wondered.  

“No, we still have our honour.” He scolded his brother. He doubted the truth in his words, but Izuna didn’t need to know that. 

Madara took a deep breath. The buzz of adrenaline started to rise again in his veins, having faded in the aftermath of the stranger's appearance. 

Readjusting the grip on his tanto, he called out to the Senju, “Well? Are we doing this?” 

Forcing a smirk on his face, he cocked his hip and tapped his tanto on his shoulder, giving the image of the brash, self-sure leader the shinobi gathered would expect to see. 

“Madara, we don’t have to do this.” Hashirama’s regular plea, right on schedule. 

“Oh, we don’t, do we...” He tutted, a smirk stretching into a condescending leer. “Izuna, would you like to explain this time?” 

Madara couldn’t quite conjure the vitriol needed to deliver the lines himself anymore. Thankfully, Izuna certainly could. 

Izuna smiled with all the charm of a fox, “How could I? Why would Senju Hashirama ever understand why we need to fight on? There's no way he could possibly hear our reasons over the screams of the Uchiha children he’s slaughtered.” Izuna’s smile slid off his face in a blink, replaced with bared teeth far more fitting to the animal he tended to resemble. 

This garnered a visible flinch from the brunette. 

Tobirama barked in defence of his brother, ever the loyal dog, “We only repay what has been done to us for far longer.”  

“Whatever” Madara rolled his eyes. Gods, he was tired. “Can we just fight already?” 

Hashirama sent him one last sad look before nodding stoically and assuming a ready stance. 

And then there was blood. And screams. And fire. And all the elements of war that Madara had grown so familiar with.  

He hated how at home he felt. 

Madara was good at fighting, not just because he had to be, but also because he enjoyed it. The thrill of testing his skill against another blade would never get old, though no one beyond Hashirama could beat him. He darted around the field, kicking, flipping and slashing all the Senju-blue armour he could see, which was a lot thanks to the help of his Sharingan. 

He yanked his tanto out of the shoulder of a red-haired kunoichi, letting the blood splatter up his chest and face. All he could smell was copper, the warm liquid running down his blade and over his hand, dyeing his pale hand crimson. The kunoichi stumbled backwards away from him, almost crashing into her compatriots before a familiar hand steadied her shoulder. A raw laugh was ripped from his throat as his old friend appeared amidst the fray. 

“Ready, Hashirama?” Madara grinned at him, his smile full of too many teeth and a mad glint in his eye that he knew battle always brought out in him.  

The Senju adjusted his blade before him, planting his feet in a wide stance. “Always Madara.” A small smile of his own played on Hashirama’s mouth.  

The Uchiha cocked a finger at his rival in invitation before gathering his legs underneath himself and springing forward. The mokuton user raised his blade to catch the downward blow of Madara’s tanto. Holding his sword with two hands against Hashirama’s, Madara forwent stability to catch the Senju by surprise and kicked out towards his opponent's knee. 

The brunette grunted in surprise, his knee buckling under Madara’s blow before whirling his blade down and to the side, using his bent position to land a blow low on Madara’s side.  

Madara winced before springing away, landing a few meters away holding his side. That must have bruised a few ribs, at least. Hashirama didn’t usually hit him that hard. Their mysterious visitor must have thrown him off a bit more than he appeared to. That or Izuna’s insults had finally gotten to him.  

Madara didn’t particularly care, and it's not like they weren’t true. One of his little brothers, Hikaru, had been killed by a Senju patrol while on a messenger mission to the Shimura clan. Madara remembers the body being presented to them on the battlefield, Hashirama’s vile father Butsuma having kept his corpse to taunt the Uchiha with.  

That was when Izuna awakened his sharingan. 

Madara glanced around to try and spot the brother in question, finally spotting him halfway across the field, blades crossed with Senju Tobirama. 

“Your brother has gotten stronger,” Hashirama remarked, having followed Madara’s gaze to their brothers.  

“He is very motivated”, Madara acknowledged before tilting his head in consideration, “He is also very annoyed by the fact that your brother seems to have a new jutsu to test on him every battle. Last time, he came home with purple hair and was very unamused.”  

Hashirama looked wide-eyed at the two fighting across the field for a moment before bursting into side-splitting laughter, slapping his thigh in mirth, “Gods, what I’d give to have seen that!” 

Madara smirked and tapped the side of his face beside his activated sharingan, “Oh, it's a wonderful image that I will remember forever.” 

A flustered Uchiha burst through the fighting around them, looking incredulously at the Senju leader and then back at his leader “Madara-sama! At least look like you’re pretending to fight.” 

“Ah, sorry, Hikaku”, He replied to his third in command, lowering his head in apology.

 Hikaku blinked at the two clan leaders having a civil discussion in the middle of the battlefield one last time before shaking his head in disappointment and launching himself at a nearby Senju wielding a wicked-looking spear.

 “He’s right, you know,” Hashirama remarked, “You used to put a lot more effort into hating me.” 

“I’m tired, Hashirama.” 

The Senju sighed, “I am, too.”  

The two clan heads stood in silence for a moment as the sounds of battle rang around them.  

Two sentinels clinging to the ideals of children skipping rocks by a creek hidden in the forest. 

Notes:

Welcome welcome, this is an idea that's snuck up on me during this endless pandemic, and as I have nothing but time I figured i'd actually spend some time writing it. I promise that this will have a happy ending. I cry when there isn't one and really don't want to get more tears on my laptop.

Madara: *sighs* this is boring, i want to stab someone
Izuna: *laughs hysterically while licking blood off his sword*
Tobirama: SEE WHAT SAVAGES WE DEAL WITH BROTHER
Hashirama: peace with the uchiha will be so nice~~

Kakashi: 0-() what is happening

Chapter 2: In which Kakashi has a no good very bad day

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Kai.” 

Nothing.  

“Kai!” 

Still nothing.  

He tried disrupting his chakra, but nothing.  

He tried stabbing a narrow senbon into his hand. It hurt but did nothing. 

Kakashi was getting a bit worried. It was rare that he got caught in a genjutsu, one of many benefits that he would never be able to repay Obito for. 

This, however, meant that the current situation was especially concerning.  

He was crouched in a tree, overlooking a battle that should not be happening by all accounts. That armour, those weapons, those faces . There was no way it was real.  

Therefore, he must be under genjutsu.  

That old man who had issued him this mission must be a genjutsu master because Kakashi couldn’t notice any difference between this place and the real world.  

There was usually something off about genjutsu-created illusions: the sky would be the wrong colour, the air wouldn't feel right, or you wouldn't be able to move in quite the right way. But this was a remarkable illusion. The branch beneath him was textured and firm; the wind tousled his hair gently, and he could smell blood and smoke in the air, drifting up from the field at the base of the hill his tree was situated atop. 

Kakashi took a deep breath. This was fine. He would be fine. He was an elite Konoha jounin, an ANBU captain, and a sensei to three two insufferable brats. He could handle an old man and his mind tricks. 

He knew he should have turned down the mission, no sane person would pay for an A-class mission with the infamous copy-nin just to be escorted to some ruined old temple. It must have been a ploy to get him away from Konoha, and this bizarre genjutsu was just a distraction.  

The last thing Kakashi remembered was arriving at the temple, an old, dilapidated stone structure practically crumbling apart, and walking through the columns that marked the entryway. He thinks he remembers a flash of light and... an orange mask? No, that can’t be right, it must have just been the old man's grey-streaked copper hair.  

Kakashi racked his concerningly blurry memories. The elder had stopped just before entering the structure and said something that Kakashi couldn’t quite remember, something about destiny and old friends, maybe? He couldn't be sure. It was like there was a filter over his memories, putting events that should have been perfectly clear underwater. 

No matter how he got here, he needed to get out and return to the village. This could be a serious threat. 

There hadn’t been many threats in the last two years, after failing to bring Sasuke back to the village, Kakashi had become rather bored. Naruto was off with Jiraiya, haunting hot springs across the elemental nations, and Sakura was becoming scarily strong training with Tsunade.  

So, with nothing else to do, Kakashi had trained and brooded about failing yet another Uchiha—the latest in a long line of failures to the clan that had marked his life.  

First was Obito, who he wasn’t going to think about.  

Then was Shisui, his ANBU junior, who was always ready with a smile that Kakashi thought was way too sunny for the black ops. Shisui’s suicide was something no one saw coming, some even blaming it on the next entry on Kakashi’s list.  

Itachi. 

Itachi’s massacre of the Uchiha clan was a dark stain on Konoha's recent history. While certainly not forgotten, it became a topic not mentioned in polite company, only whispered about in the shadows that seemed to grow more prominent in the village with every year that passed. Kakashi was Itachi’s ANBU captain, and he should have known, he should have seen . What was the point of his enhanced vision if he couldn’t see what was wrong with those closest to him? 

His failure to look after Sasuke added another debt to a clan that wasn’t even around to collect.  

Well, they weren’t around in the real world, at least. In the illusion he found himself in, there seemed to be hundreds.  

He stared down at the soldiers on the field. Pale figures with dark hair wearing the iconic Uchiha blacks were pitted against what Kakashi could only assume was the Senju by their matching blue armour. Uchiha fireballs flew haphazardly past friend and foe alike, fighters bending over backwards to avoid the stray jutsus. For their part, the Senju fought with a much wider range of elements to try and combat the predictive power of the sharingan. Earth rumbled, and water crashed over the ranks of fighting shinobi. 

Kakashi’s eyes drifted over the field before locking on the patterned circle of burnt grass where he had arrived.  

Now, that was interesting. Why would the old man craft a seal into his genjutsu? Especially one that had obviously radiated power, Kakashi could still feel the waves of chakra that had waved over his skin when he had stood in it. It obviously had a purpose, maybe it was the key to what was holding the illusion together.  

Seals could do a lot; Kakashi knew this well, having heard way too many of Kushina’s rants about the benefits of learning fuuinjutsu. He knew they could do way more than the simple uses like tracking and preservation that many nin used them for. Kushina had even promised to tell him about the old Uzushio seal masters someday... 

But that was then. 

Now, he didn’t even like to make his own exploding tags like many other jounin, preferring to buy them from the general supply store. There are too many memories tied up in the swirls and precise symbols to consider designing his own. Whenever he tried, he could hear Kushina’s bell-like laughter and echoes of Minato’s low rumbling encouragement.  

So, no, he preferred not to think about fuuinjutsu that much. However, in this situation, it seemed he had to. 

The seal seared in the grass was large, larger than Kakashi had ever seen. Even with his Konoha hitai-ate pushed up and sharingan exposed, it was hard to get a clear look at the seal through the legs of the shinobi fighting on top of it.  

The jounin snorted to himself. They should really know better than to infringe on an unknown seal, they didn’t know it was inactive yet.  

Especially if this was a complex mental construct, as his current theory suggested, he would hope an army created from his own mind would be smarter than this. He would have to speak with the old man who did this to him about underestimating his intelligence once he broke out. He was a genius, thank you very much. 

The perceived intelligence of his mind-army aside, he had to get closer if he wanted a clear view of what he was dealing with.  

Obviously, the fact that it was in the middle of a battlefield made things a bit more complicated. While this may be all in his head, he could still feel the pain of being stabbed, evident by the still throbbing senbon wound in his hand.   

All he had to do was get past hundreds of bloodthirsty shinobi without getting stabbed. 

Simple! 

The jounin jumped down from his perch onto the grassy knoll the patch of trees rested on. How was he going to approach this? 

He could use a headhunter jutsu to tunnel underneath the battlefield and just pop out close to the seal. However, the Senju seemed to enjoy using earth jutsu, and he worried the constant tremors might throw off his sense of direction while underground. He could simply shunshin through the field and use his sharingan to avoid crashing into anyone, but there was the risk that the Uchiha constructs may attack him instead if they caught a glance of Obito’s eye. 

Perhaps he could just walk up to the seal without hiding. The armies hadn’t been outright hostile to him before, merely seeming shocked at his presence. Kakashi wondered what the purpose of this illusion even was, it was odd to be under a hostile genjutsu and not be attacked immediately.  

Another oddity was that he definitely recognised some of the faces the construct was using. It was hard to forget the faces of the Shodaime and Nidaime when they were literally etched into the cliff overlooking Konoha. Senju Hashirama and Senju Tobirama were iconic figures from Konoha's history, though he couldn't picture those iconic faces making the dumbstruck faces they had sported earlier. The other side could have had no one else but the infamous first missing-nin Uchiha Madara and his ill-fated brother. Kakashi definitely hadn’t seen those faces before, so he figured his mind had created such pleasing appearances to fit the construct. 

The figment of his mind appearing to be Hashirama had even addressed him, leaving Kakashi panicking for a reply that wouldn’t make them attack him. He figured if the old man was paying any attention to what was happening in his admittedly masterful illusion, he would appreciate the credit for the situation that Kakashi had given him. He hoped he enjoyed it while he could because when Kakashi got out of here, he would eviscerate him for daring to keep him away from his village. 

Kakashi settled for a simple henge, modelled off one of the more nondescript Senju fighters he could spot on the edge of the field before slowly working his way into the fray. Hopefully, this way he could make his way through the fighting without anyone noticing an unknown shinobi was even there. 

The clash of weapons was loud in his ears, and he was glad for the presence of his mask beneath the henge to protect his sensitive nose from the acrid tang of smoke and copper. 

The jounin was careful to dart between empty parts of the field, avoiding eye contact with anyone who may find him suspicious, whether it was Senju who may recognise his disguise or Uchiha who were much more likely to stab first and ask questions later. 

He made it almost two-thirds of the way there before running into trouble in the form of a spiky-haired Uchiha kunoichi wielding a pair of wickedly sharp tessen. 

He neatly sidestepped her blow as she darted towards him with a grunt after spotting him coming around a rock pillar. Said rock pillar rumbled and quickly shifted to cut off the Uchiha’s next dash forward. The nin behind this jutsu was a muscular Senju kunoichi whose brown hair was in a long braid dyed auburn with blood.  

His saviour took a quick glance at him as if to make sure he was alright before her eyes widened in surprise, “Akihito! Why aren’t you with Juro? You promised you would stay with him during his first battle!”  

Ah, that was why the shinobi stayed on the battle's edge. He must have been keeping a youngster from the worst of the fighting.  

He dodged another blow from the Uchiha, who had made her way around the pillar, and replied to the kunoichi, “Aha, I’m sure he’s fine, you know it's important for children to fight for their own accomplishments.” He nodded in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Despite being only an illusion, the kunoichi displayed remarkably realistic distress, making him a bit uncomfortable. 

“You promised!”  

Oh gods, her voice was cracking. Kakashi did not want to deal with tears, even if they weren’t real. 

(It couldn't be real; there was no way it could be real cause that would mean-) 

Instead of trying to deal with this mess, he risked a shunshin to another relatively clear part of the field, a dusty patch only a few meters away from the seal. He could feel the power radiating off the seal the closer he got. How were none of the surrounding fighters reacting? 

Catching a glimpse of something bright in the corner of his eye, he quickly sidestepped a fireball jutsu, feeling the heat of it pass much too close to his face. He spun around to face the jutsu caster to be faced with an Uchiha shinobi absolutely drenched in blood. He also seemed to be cackling slightly, which did not bode well for Kakashi’s chances of reasoning with him.  

“Any way I could convince you not to fight me?” He might as well try.  

“No chance in hell, Senju, I’m not as soft as my brother.” The answer was spat back at him through clenched teeth.  

The copy-nin sighed, “I’m not even a Senju-”  

“Your fight is with me, Izuna!” A deep voice interrupted before he could finish.  

The Nidaime himself landed on the ground in front of his Senju disguise with enough force that the ground cracked around him.  

Kakashi glanced anxiously to the side as one of the cracks got dangerously close to the seal. It wouldn't be good if his only clue to getting out of here was damaged.  

He took a small step towards it and then a bigger one when he saw Izuna’s swirling gaze was solely focused on the pale Senju instead of him.  

He got as close to the seal as he dared without stepping into the circle.  

His eye widened as he examined the symbols woven into the seal. He recognised a few of them and... 

Oh no.  

This wasn’t good. 

He quickly raised his hitai-ate to make sure.  

Oh gods.  

This really wasn't good.  

He took a few quick breaths and shoved his hitai-ate back down. He couldn’t let anyone see the sharingan, couldn't risk it even under the henge. 

(That was more important than ever now that he knew he was-) 

He recognised three key symbols in the large seal, mainly because they were key aspects of his sensei’s Hiraishin. All three were tied to the space-time nature of the Nidaime’s famous technique that Minato in turn perfected to be known as the fastest shinobi alive. No matter where the seal was, Minato could summon himself to where it was located, his chakra calling to the chakra infused in the seal. It allowed him to move faster than could even be tracked by the sharingan, and those three symbols made it possible.  

If they were present in this seal, then-  

There was no way. It wasn’t possible!  

Kakashi desperately tried to think of another explanation; he was a prodigy, he could figure this out. 

He crouched to examine the seal. 

There wasn’t anything he could see relating to genjutsu or illusions. The only other symbols he could recognise were a few essential stabilisers and what he thought may be the symbolic equation of entropy.  

This was one of the worst situations Kakashi had found himself in, and he’s been in many bad situations over the years. 

“Ah, what did I do to deserve this...” He mused out loud, knowing quite well he probably deserved this ten times over. 

He first had to get off this battlefield. 

(The Senju and Uchiha battlefield, who were very much real and alive and he was not thinking about that) 

He rose from his crouch and spun around only to quickly cover his face as a hot burst of steam spread over this section of the battlefield. He sighed; countering a fire jutsu with a water jutsu was never good for visibility. 

He started forward, hoping to escape the area before Uchiha Izuna decided he wanted an easier kill than Senju Tobirama. 

He made it about three meters before crashing into a blue armoured back.  

“Ah.” 

This was where things shifted

Tobirama had been mid-throw when he stumbled slightly in response to the sudden force against his back, forcing the volley of kunai he was throwing, including one very special three-pronged kunai, to leave his hand a few centimetres off from where he intended.  

Then, the Senju was suddenly behind Izuna, faster than Kakashi could track.  

Apparently it was faster than the Uchiha could track as well. 

Izuna choked back a cry, blood pooling to the surface of his shirt in a long slash down his side, staining the dark fabric even darker. 

As he fell to his knees, wide red and black eyes flickered toward where a distant shout of his name could be heard. 

Behind him, Tobirama flicked blood off his katana and yanked up the kunai he had used to perform the Hiraishin Jutsu before turning his glare at Kakashi. 

The copy-nin winced internally. The future Nidaime had a very scary glare.  

He tried for a disarming smile in the albino’s direction, “Ah, sorry Tobirama-sama, I didn’t see you there.”  

Tobirama narrowed his eyes even further, “You are not Akihito.” He said as if stating a simple fact instead of bursting Kakashi’s cover wide open without any effort.  

The jounin tilted his head and dropped the henge. He could still salvage this, “You’re very smart.” 

The Senju snorted, “Of course I am. I’m a genius. Though it speaks more to your intelligence than mine if you thought I couldn't identify a henge of my own cousin.” 

Ouch.  

Kakashi opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted by a whirlwind of black cloth and red armour dashing past him to the side of Izuna. 

What could only be Uchiha Madara hovered at his brother's side, one hand holding him up and the other hovering awkwardly above the bleeding gash like he didn’t quite know what to do. A low, wounded sound came from him that Kakashi was a bit unnerved to hear coming from what he knew to be one of the most powerful shinobi who had ever lived. 

“Madara...” The voice of Senju Hashirama came from a few meters away, having followed the distraught clan leader,  

Kakashi wondered if he could disappear; this seemed like a very important moment that he did not want to be in. 

“Hashirama,” The Uchiha started lowly, “I will not lose another brother to you!” His tone became harsh and guttural, all but snarling at the Senju as he raised his head to look him directly in the eye. His ink-black hair fell in a tangled curtain around him, twisting and curling over his shoulders; Kakashi wondered absentmindedly how he didn’t get it caught in the rivets of his armour. 

Hashirama took a small stumbling step forward, “Please, let me help, please, Madara.” It was unnerving to see the Shodaime plead like this. 

Madara tightened his grip on Izuna, who let out a small groan and squeezed his eyes shut with pain. He looked at Hashirama for a long second and pulled out a kunai, “Fine, come, if you make one wrong move, I’ll gut you.” 

Hashirama let out a relieved breath and rushed to Izuna’s other side. As soon as he knelt, Madara had his kunai pressed against his throat just hard enough so that a tiny droplet of red beaded against the Senju's tan throat.  

Hashirama gave no notice that he even felt the blade and lit his hands up with green chakra. He settled them over Izuna’s side and closed his eyes. 

It only took a moment before his eyes flew open again to meet Madara’s, “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Madara’s hand tightened on the kunai. 

The Senju removed his hand from the younger Uchiha, the green glow fading away. “He’s fortunate, the hit could have easily nicked the artery and he would have bled out in an hour. But this... this will heal.” 

Having watched this ordeal with subdued shock, Kakashi felt his eye widen slightly. When he stumbled into Tobirama, did he- 

Had he-  

He groaned. Messing with time had strange consequences.  

(Which he knew from Icha Icha Sands of Time, one of his favourites of Jiraiya’s body of work) 

Gai would be very disappointed if he had inadvertently wiped him out of the timeline by saving Uchiha Izuna’s life. 

Notes:

So I'm taking a bit of liberty with the timelines, cause I mean what else is fanfiction for. Also I very much headcanon that the Senju had at least some basic healing jutsu, I'm not sure why, but I just kinda went with it in this story.

Also! I'm trying to do quite a bit of writing in the next few weeks (thank you spring break!) but I'll move to once a week updates once uni starts back up. In other news I've finished the outline for this story, so I have a pretty good idea of where this is going and... oh lordy the lads are in for a bit of a time.

Kakashi: *accidentally messes with the space time continuum by tripping over a rock* oops

Kakashi: So you're smart
Tobirama: Yes.
Kakashi: ... you know you're not supposed to just say that right

Izuna: *is lowkey a bloodthirsty maniac*
Madara: If anyone hurts my precious innocent baby brother I will wear their organs as clothing

Chapter 3: In which a diplomat is introduced

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Madara clung desperately to Izuna, his fingers twisted into the black material of his brother's uniform. The image of blood blooming down his brother's side like one of his mother's favourite crimson orchids burned into his brain.

This was not how he saw the day going.  

Of course, you can’t predict what happens in war, but Madara had fought in dozens of battles by his brother's side, and Izuna had seemed untouchable up to this point. Never seriously injured and a steady presence at his side, his constant (and somewhat concerning) enthusiasm kept Madara grounded and focused on the goals of his clan. 

Seeing him pale and only semi-conscious in his arms had shaken Madara in a way he hadn’t felt since Hikaru had gone missing. His chest felt tight and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears, almost drowning out the battle noises around them.  

Hashirama looked at him with worried, big brown eyes, startlingly calm despite having a razor-sharp blade pressed to his throat. The two clan heads had yet to move since Izuna’s prognosis was determined, and despite its somewhat positive tone, Madara still felt unbalanced. Madara could have lost his last brother if that pale demon had slashed a hair deeper. 

That was not acceptable.  

The startling clarity of that thought chased away some of the fog that had overtaken him, and he quickly took account of the situation he found himself in.  

Senju and Uchiha bodies alike were strewn across the ground, and while some were groaning softly and trying to drag themselves out of the fray, others were scarily motionless. While watching the clan leaders with cautious eyes, some shinobi were moving to assist the injured. The clang of blades had slowly faded away, and while still on guard, most of those within visual distance had lowered their weapons and were slowly grouping with their clanmates. 

Senju Tobirama stood a few meters behind Hashirama, and while he had himself angled towards Madara, his red eyes were fixed on something past the Uchiha’s shoulder. Following his gaze to see what could possibly be more of a threat than his kunai at Hashirama’s throat, Madara was greeted by the sight of the silver-haired shinobi that had surprised them all earlier.  

“You!” He blurted, eyes wide. 

Hashirama hissed softly as, in his shock, Madara jerked the kunai slightly against the Senju, letting a small trickle of red run down his neck. Madara winced and moved to put the kunai away.  He was all too aware of the position he was in. Izuna was down for the count, and there was no way he could take both of the Senju brothers. Hashirama could have killed them both the moment Madara knelt by his brother's side. 

But he didn’t.  

He helped him.  

Madara knew Hashirama was an idiot. That had been long established. But to go as far as to give medical assistance and have the audacity to look concerned? About Madara? 

Despite his misgivings about Hashirama’s moronic decision-making skills, he wasn’t about to repay the man’s mercy by slitting his throat. 

Narrowing his eyes at the now decidedly uncomfortable-looking stranger, Madara pulled Izuna’s arm over his shoulder and stood up. His brother gave a small groan at the sudden movement before slumping unconscious against Madara’s side. 

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Madara snapped. He hadn’t liked not understanding earlier and certainly didn’t like it now. He had seen the man disappear with his own two eyes. How did he suddenly resurface in the middle of a battlefield he had no business being in at the exact moment Izuna almost died? 

(Oh gods, Izuna almost died. He could have been alone-) 

The masked man rubbed a hand against his neck, “Would now be a good time to go? I think this is a good time to go.” The eye not covered by the metal-plated headband he wore, traced the edge of the dusty patch of field they found themselves in. Around them, a growing number of both Uchiha and Senju were lining its edges. 

Madara opened his mouth to reply but was preempted by the white-haired Senju, pulling Hashirama to his feet, “Not so fast, Hatake. You still didn’t answer why you were impersonating my cousin.” 

The man tilted his head, hand dropping to rest at his side above one of the pouches on the oddly bulky green vest he was wearing, “Now, why would you call me by that name?”  

Madara noticed his grey eye grow noticeably colder. He felt Izuna shiver as a cool breeze picked up, chilling the sweat on his skin from the earlier fight. The air temperature seemed to drop unnaturally quickly, and soon even Madara was fighting back a shiver.  

Something about this stranger was dangerous

“No need to get defensive, Hatake-san. In case you missed me mentioning it before, I’m very smart.” The pale Senju gave a condescending smirk that Madara itched to wipe off his face, preferably with his tanto. 

The shinobi, Hatake, fell into a lazy slouch Madara thought looked much too relaxed for a man who had just let out an alarming amount of killing intent, “Please elaborate, I’m not sure we know quite how much genius is contained behind those pretty little red tattoos of yours.” 

Hah, that did the trick almost as good as Madara’s blade would have.  

The albino narrowed his wine-coloured eyes, “Your hair is quite distinctive for one; your chakra is as well, and if I didn’t know before, your reaction certainly confirmed it.” 

His chakra? Madara had heard rumours about the younger Senju’s chakra-sensing abilities being behind his uncanny ability to create new jutsus, but it was unnerving to see it in action. He wondered if Uchiha chakra was just as easily identified. 

The name Hatake also sounded familiar. He was sure he’d heard it before. He’d never paid much attention to his father's political lessons, not really caring what the governmental structure of various clans were when all of them fell beneath his blade just as easily. Izuna would know, he had taken much more of an interest in politics than Madara. It was yet another reason Izuna had always been Tajima’s favourite son. 

“Aren’t the Hatake a neutral clan? Why are you in the middle of our battlefield? How did you appear so suddenly earlier?” Hashirama said rapidly, “And why are you wearing the Uzumaki spiral!” 

The newly identified Hatake glanced down at his outfit, “Would you believe it’s a fashion statement?” 

Hashirama looked thoughtful, “Well, now that you mention it, it is an interesting crest isn’t it... Wait, no, don’t change the topic!” He pointed accusingly at the silver-haired shinobi. 

Madara spotted Tobirama shaking his head in exasperation at his brother's antics, “My brother's questionable fashion taste aside, those are very valid questions. Care to enlighten us, Hatake-san?” 

“I want to know why you happened to be here exactly when my brother got hurt,” Madara growled, activating his sharingan. He wasn’t the best at reading people and needed every insight he could get, especially with the strange shinobi as covered up as he was.  

The slouching man looked at Madara, eye lazily focusing on the middle of his forehead.  

Interesting. He knew to avoid looking directly at the sharingan.  

“It’s interesting that you mention that Uchiha-sama, I didn’t intend to be near your brother or any of you, to be fair. You’re very scary.” Hatake shrugged nonchalantly. “Really, I just wanted to take a look at the seal over there. Your little battle just happened to be in the way.”  

“The seal?” Tobirama frowned, “The one you arrived in?” 

“Unless there’s another giant seal that I missed.”  

A deeper frown from the Senju as he walked over to examine the pattern of burnt grass that Madara realised was only a few meters behind the group. 

As the albino walked past him to get to the seal, Hatake’s eye widened slightly before he let out a comically loud sneeze, bending almost in half to bury his masked face in his elbow.  

Madara’s sharingan-enhanced gaze caught the abbreviated hand seals the shinobi flew through before a minor wind jutsu ripped up the grass around Hatake. Blades of wind kicked up dust and grass in the area making up the seal, rendering it unreadable.  

Tobirama spun around with a glare for the silver-haired man, fists balled at his sides. 

“Allergy season is the worst, isn’t it?” Hatake sniffled loudly and rubbed his mask-covered nose,  eye crinkling shut into a crescent. 

The pale Senju took two stalking steps towards the man before Hashirama rushed over to intercept with a firm hand on his shoulder, “Hold on, Tobi, remember the Hatake are neutral. We wouldn't want them to change their minds would we?” 

If they were so neutral, what was this one doing on their battlefield?  

Madara wasn’t good at diplomacy, and this day was already too long to attempt.  

So he went with what he was known for and busted out the brute force. 

He let his sharingan spin, increasing the chakra until it shifted into the pinwheel of his mangekyou sharingan. The spike in chakra had everyone's head snapping to the Uchiha. “How about you answer our questions? I’ll let you keep your sanity.”  

Hatake raised his hands in front of him placatingly, “Now, now, there's no need for that, I’d be happy to answer your questions. You may call me Hatake Kakashi, I was serving as an envoy from a distant branch of the Hatake clan to the Uzumaki. As I said when I popped up earlier, I had gotten lost and stumbled upon an older shinobi testing his long-distance transportation seals. He seemed to think I would be a wonderful test subject, and well...  you saw what happened next.” 

“So that was what you meant, you really could have been clearer, you know,” Hashirama  scolded, chewing his lip thoughtfully, “The Uzumaki are known to be seal masters, though I wasn’t aware they had any ties to the Hatake clan.” 

Tobirama, still under his brother’s restraining hand, narrowed his eyes, “And that still doesn't explain why you were under a henge of my cousin.” 

The masked man, Kakashi, Madara reminded himself, turned his slate gaze towards the albino, “As I said, you Senju and Uchiha are quite scary. I would rather try and get back through the seal on my own without disturbing your very important battle...” He frowned, “ What exactly are you fighting about again?” 

Tobirama growled , jerking against his brother's hold towards Kakashi, “We are fighting to avenge our fallen comrades that the Uchiha have killed! Not that the Hatake would know, having kept their pelts out of anything not directly affecting themselves.” 

Madara flicked his gaze towards him with a scowl, eyes still flashing the mangekyou, “Watch yourself, Senju, we’ve lost just as many if not more than you. Remember which of us can heal!” He bared his teeth at the Senju in an expression Izuna had described as ‘scary enough to make the Sage of Six Paths himself shit his pants’. 

Healing was one of the many abilities the Uchiha clan had tried time and time to gain but failed each time. The sharingan was a powerful tool to predict and copy enemy jutsus, but since healing didn’t require any visible seals, what the Senju actually did to bring the characteristic green chakra of healing to the surface was a secret that had eluded the Uchiha for decades. Madara had given up trying it himself after the last time he’d fried his chakra coils for two weeks. 

Suddenly, Hashirama burst out laughing. Madara looked at him incredulously. He had thought the man had fulfilled his quota of idiotic moments for the day, but apparently not. 

Ringing peals of laughter dying down, Hashirama shot the masked shinobi a wide grin, “I must hand it to you, Hatake-san. You are doing a marvellous job of distracting us. You must make a wonderful diplomat.” 

At this, Kakashi looked slightly offended, fixing the Senju with an unreadable stare, “I never thought that would be a sentence ever directed at me, but I’ll take it as a compliment?”  

“You should! If you truly are the diplomat you say you are.” He sent another smile towards the silver-haired man, though it was much more calculating this time, “Though as much as I might respect your skills, I believe you still have some questions to answer from my dear friend here.” 

The Uchiha scowled at the form of address, “Not your friend Senju.”  

“Oh, come on Madara, you only tried to kill me twice today! That must be a new record.”  

Madara turned his head away, refusing to give the beaming brunette any confirmation that may have shown on his face. Instead, he focused on the tall figure of Hatake Kakashi, “I’ll ask one more time: Did you have anything to do with Izuna’s injury?”  

He blinked before lifting a hooded grey eye to meet Madara’s gaze head-on. “My purpose here had nothing to do with your brother.” 

Madara was stunned, even other Uchiha didn’t look him in the eye when he had the Mangekyou activated.  

But this Hatake Kakashi...  

Even though he had avoided looking earlier, he did it now without hesitation.  

Madara wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a show of trust, bravery, or just stupidity, but he got the feeling that Kakashi’s statement was truthful. At least, this particular one was.  

“Ok.” He let the mangekyou fade back to his regular obsidian in acquiescence.  

Hashirama spluttered slightly, “So you’ll let things go easily for a stranger but not your oldest friend?” 

Madara sighed. He was too tired to deal with Hashirama’s dramatics, “First of all, still not your friend, and secondly, generations of war are not just things Hashirama.” He steadfastly ignored the pout and big brown eyes the Senju was aiming towards him. 

The small movement of his sigh was enough to jar Izuna enough to let out another small moan of pain. Madara looked at him concerned, though he trusted Hashirama enough to believe the wound would heal. It was no small gash. He needed to get Izuna back to the clan compound to rest.  

By this point, Tobirama had broken away from his brother and was instead studying the torn-up grass where the seal had rested, with Kakashi watching him carefully. The Senju bent down and ran a hand over a small patch of grass not ripped out of the ground; as soon as he touched a singed area, he shuddered violently and stumbled backwards. He immediately twisted to look at the silver-haired shinobi with wide red eyes, “This... this was a very powerful seal.” He said carefully. 

Madara assumed that was a given if it had transported him all the way from the Land of Whirlpools. 

Kakashi hummed noncommittally, “I suppose so, I’m sure the old man will be pleased to hear it worked.”  

There was a rustling and grumbling on the edges of the small crowd that had gathered around the clan leaders before the familiar figure of Hikaku pushed through, “Move, move, out of the way!”  

Hikaku looked rough. One sleeve of his uniform was torn clean off, and his high collar was jaggedly ripped down the middle. He had blood matted on his temple and was limping terribly.  

Still, once he took in the situation with narrow eyes, he moved to stand in front of Madara and Izuna with his katana held loosely in his hand.  

Madara was lucky to have Hikaku.  

His cousin would do anything for the clan, even if it meant pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion to keep things running. When Madara was too tired to bother, or when Izuna started on one of his week-long training binges after a loss to Tobirama, Hikaku was always there to pick up the slack in the clan’s day-to-day activities.  

He also had a protective streak as wide as the Naka River.  

Whenever one of the brothers was injured, Hikaku made sure they treated it with correctly boiled bandages and barred them from the training grounds until he was satisfied it was healed.  

It drove Izuna crazy .  

He would rant to Madara about how he didn’t need another mother and that just because Hikaku didn’t have one didn't mean he had to become one. 

Whenever that particular whine came out of Izuna’s mouth, Madara dunked him in the koi pond outside their house. It was his favourite method of shutting his brother up. 

“Madara-sama.” Hikaku greeted, “How’s Izuna?”  

“He’ll live. He’ll complain about it, but he’ll live.” Madara was already dreading the days Izuna would be trapped in bed. He loved his brother to death, but Izuna was also a complete brat when he wanted to be, and he hated being told to rest. 

Hikaku let out a small sigh of relief, “I figured he would be when the field wasn’t enveloped in fire and death, but it's nice to know for sure.”
Hikaku was also kind of a sarcastic bastard. 

Hashirama and his brother were soon joined by their own third in command, Senju Touka. Madara had fought the muscular kunoichi a few times and knew her taijutsu was nothing to be trifled with. 

Kakashi was standing to the side, equidistant between the two groups that had formed. Madara eyed him consideringly. He certainly didn’t look like a diplomat.  

Not that Madara knew a lot of diplomats to begin with.  

Ok, so Madara didn’t actually know any diplomats beyond whatever Hashirama fancied himself.  

But that didn’t change the fact that he felt there was something off about the silver-haired shinobi. 

He may have told the truth about Izuna, but Madara suspected he was hiding something. The timing of his appearance was just way too suspicious

Madara hadn’t gotten this far without trusting his instincts. They had saved his life multiple times. 

“Madara.” Hashirama’s voice rang across the small distance that had opened between the Senju and Uchiha, “We could end this all now. You know that.” The Senju appeared oddly serious, the expression not fitting what Madara knew of his friend mortal enemy. 

Madara looked down at the waned face of his brother pressed against his shoulder. Gods, he wanted it to be over. But Izuna...  

Izuna would never forgive him.  

Izuna cared so much. He hid it behind sharp teeth and even sharper blades, but Izuna cared more about what happened to their clan than Madara ever could.  

Madara missed his brothers who had been killed; of course he did, but for Izuna, it was like it happened yesterday. Izuna never forgot, never could forget, with the first image ever seen by his sharingan being his brother's dead body. Because of that, Izuna could never forgive the Senju. 

And so neither could Madara.  

Izuna fought for his dead brothers, and Madara fought for the one that was still alive. 

He looked down at his boots and the spots of blood spattered across them before turning himself and Izuna around, moving away from where he could feel Hashirama's heavy gaze boring into the back of his skull. 

He walked a few halting steps before pausing, looking over his shoulder at the supposed diplomat still standing awkwardly with his arms folded over each other. 

“Hikaku, bring him.” He gestured loosely in the Hatake’s direction.  

He smirked as the man startled, arms slipping uncrossed as he looked up at Madara with a wide grey eye. 

Just because he believed Kakashi hadn’t harmed Izuna didn’t mean he trusted him. And he didn’t trust the Senju not just to let him go.  

The man was dangerous, and there was more to this story than he had wanted them to believe. 

He may not be a genius like Tobirama, but he wasn’t stupid and would get to the bottom of this. 

Notes:

I'm aware there's a lot of standing and talking in this chapter but uhhh it needed to happen. I promise next chapter things will get moving a bit more 😅
PACING IS HARD DAMMIT

Also I'm not sure where the whole 'Madara dunks Izuna in the koi pond' thing came from but I've read in in more than a few fics and I LOVE it.

Hashirama: Madara is my friend
Madara: I'm NOT your friend
Hashirama: *making friendship bracelet for Madara* Madara is my FRIEND
Madara: *putting on friendship bracelet* we're still not friends dammit

Kakashi: *trying desperately to think of a cover story on the spot* I need something not suspicious, not traceable, and not something that can be easily fact-checked.
Also Kakashi: "I AM A DIPLOMAT TO THE UZUMAKI"

Chapter 4: In which diplomacy is overrated

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Kakashi was not having a good day. 

He was near the front of the slowly marching column of Uchiha. The one with short, spiky hair that had grabbed him earlier was limping dutifully a half step behind him, black eyes glaring into the side of his head just as they had for the last six hours.  

In front of him was the man who had ordered him along as nothing but a second thought, Uchiha Madara. The clan leader still had his brother hoisted over his shoulder, having refused multiple times to let anyone else carry him. Despite this refusal, a small group of anxious-looking Uchiha hovered around him, seemingly ready to catch Izuna if he were to slip off his brother's shoulder. Personally, Kakashi put more money on Madara being the one to slip. He had seen the dark bruises under the Uchiha’s eyes and was honestly amazed he was still upright with how exhausted he looked. 

Madara had ignored him after flashing his sharingan at him as ‘encouragement’ not to fight against Hikaku escorting him to join the Uchiha.  

Kakashi definitely did not want to fight Uchiha Madara. 

Even if he was as exhausted as he appeared, Kakashi did not want to go against the man known to be the only one to pose a challenge to the ‘god of shinobi’, Senju Hashirama. 

So he had let Hikaku herd him towards the Uchiha with only token protests, if he was supposed to be playing a diplomat he might as well try to do things peacefully. 

At least for the time being. 

He figured once the tired warriors were all passed out in their beds. He could slip away before they decided what to do with the stray diplomat they’d caught. 

He mentally cursed himself for picking such a dumb cover story; he knew if Genma ever heard about this, the assassin would laugh himself silly at the idea of Kakashi posing as a diplomat. Typically, when he had to do infiltration missions, he had time to prepare something untraceable, something with a disguise and enough believability that it wouldn't be automatically suspicious.  

A diplomat was none of those things, especially when the cover was for him, of all people. 

Kakashi wasn’t proud, but he’d panicked. It wasn’t every day you found yourself flung into the past; it wasn’t really a situation they’d ever covered in ANBU training.  

So, still reeling from that revelation, Kakashi had worked with what he had. The two Senju quickly picked out the Uzushio emblem on his flak jacket so he leaned into it. He really didn’t know anything about what the Uzumaki or Hatake were doing during this time period, it comes with the territory of having all of those associated with those clans die, he supposed, but he hoped he could get away from this without them even being aware of his story.  

Despite his best efforts, he knew both the Senju and Uchiha hadn’t been wholly convinced of his story, and he cursed his luck that he had ended up with the scarier of the two parties.  

Kakashi still wasn’t sure what to make of the two first Hokage. While less terrifying than the two blood-coated Uchiha, the Senju were not what he expected. Hashirama had been, well... strange, was the best word Kakashi could think of, and Tobirama had been kind of a jerk who was much too smart for his own good. Kakashi had barely pulled off destroying the seal before he could see it, he knew from the books he’d read that it was never good if one was exposed as a time traveller.  

Not that what he read in Icha Icha really counted as proper mission parameters, but he figured it was as good a place to start as any. He ultimately decided to treat this as a long-term undercover mission, albeit with a rather sloppy cover. He figured he would probably have to adapt as he went. He pushed all the skeptical thoughts on time travel being real (time travel was real, would he ever see them again-) to the very back of his brain. A voice that sounded scarily like ANBU Commander Bear was running through a standard infiltration checklist in his head, slowly allowing him to relax a tad as he organised his thoughts and tried to figure out what his mission objective actually was. 

He had to go home.  

The village had his people in it: Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke, and  the rest of his friends. The village needed him. He wasn’t trying to be egotistical, but it was a simple fact: Kakashi was one of Konoha’s most powerful shinobi, and if the village were ever threatened, he would play a large role in defending it. 

So, how was he going to get back? 

He was distracted from his planning as sighs seemed to ripple through the Uchiha in front of him. When he peered over their heads, he saw the wooden wall of a clan compound coming into view.  

Grim-faced guards were waiting alongside various men and women, peering anxiously over the group appearing through the trees, looking desperately for their loved ones. Some broke into relieved sobs, throwing themselves into the arms of exhausted warriors while others were greeted with subdued head shakes before they crumpled to the ground. 

Kakashi was painfully reminded of similar scenes he faced during the third shinobi war. He hated being the one to tell family members their loved ones had died. However, he felt he at least owed the fallen the courtesy; it's not like they could do it themselves.  

He survived. They didn’t. 

The Uchiha compound was smaller than he expected it to be. Homes and trade houses were laid out in a haphazard pattern around a larger main house with a rather wide pond in front of it. The village was ringed by a tall wooden wall with various scorch-marked fields pressed against it that Kakashi assumed were training areas. 

Hikaku finally emerged from his blind spot and jerked his head towards where Madara had finally relinquished Izuna to an older woman who, with the help of younger kunoichi, disappeared with the younger Uchiha into the main house. Kakashi trailed behind the limping man until he was once again under Uchiha Madara’s dark gaze.  

The man was quite intimidating.  

With heavy red armour layered over the standard black uniform, he cut an impressive figure. The Uchiha had blood smeared across a high cheekbone, and having dried on the long walk from the battlefield, it was a rusty brown that stood out starkly against his pale skin. He was frowning thoughtfully as he looked at Kakashi, narrowed eyes scrutinizing the jounin. Kakashi didn’t forget, however, how easily those onyx eyes could bleed crimson. Meeting them earlier to convince the man he meant no harm had been one of the most nerve-racking things he’d done in a long time. He knew all too well the damage a mangekyou could do. 

“Put him in the guest house for now,” Madara said after a beat too long to be comfortable, “We can talk in the morning.” He directed this second statement at Kakashi, meeting his gaze briefly before turning around and slipping inside the main house, tangled dark hair swishing after him. 

Hikaku, having said a grand total of two words since Kakashi met him, “Come” and “Here”, stuck to his previous patterns and jerked his head towards a small house across the path with a glare.  

After opening the door for him, Kakashi heard one more word from his guide, “Stay”, before he was alone.  

He quickly did a quick inspection of the two rooms in the house. In one was a dusty futon and low table, and in the other was a mirror and pot that Kakashi hoped desperately wasn’t supposed to be a toilet.  

He already missed modern amenities.  

The jounin moved back to the larger of the two rooms and slid a finger along the window sill, picking up a thin layer of dust. The sun was low on the horizon, painting the buildings he could see in oranges and reds, the pitched roofs casting shadows that lengthened as he watched, throwing the hardened dirt paths into darkness. 

What would he do now?  

He had captured a perfect image of the seal that sent him here in the sharingan and could recreate it if needed. He was afraid, though, that it would take more than that.  

One of the lessons Kushina had drilled into his head was that seals served one purpose and one purpose only. Each symbol was precise and exact, and they fulfilled a single function within the mechanics of the seal to produce a single outcome. To create a different outcome, you had to change something within the seal.  

So, while Kakashi knew he would have to change the seal somehow to get home, he certainly didn’t know how to do it.  

His best bet would be the Uzumaki, they were regarded as the best sealing masters in the Elemental Nations and had been for generations.  

He knew vaguely where he was, that the Uchiha had been from near the source of the Naka River, further east than Konoha. To get to the Land of Whirlpools, he had to get west, across the Land of Fire and the Land of Grass. It should only take him a few days if he moves quickly. 

Ok. He had a plan.  

He rifled through the sparse cabinets, seeing if there was anything at all that could help him. Even after searching everywhere in the house, he only came up with one rusty senbon. He was a tad disappointed, but since he still had all of his standard supplies he had when he went on the mission initially he supposed he wasn’t that bad off.  

Glancing out the window, Kakashi was relieved to see darkness had finally fallen. The last light of the sun had faded to the barest hint of deep purple at the tips of the trees visible over the tall wooden fence, and the paths around his little hut were steeped in blackness. 

He tried the door handle, only to find it locked. ‘Guest’ house. Yeah sure.  

Next, he tried the window he had looked out of earlier. It didn’t have any mechanism to open, but the single pane of glass was slightly loose in its wooden frame as Kakashi poked at it a few times. This he could work with.  

Taking the rusty senbon he’d found in the cabinet, he wedged it between the glass pane and the inside of the wood holding it in place. Slowly moving the senbon back and forth, he began levering the wood away from the glass until the bottom part of the frame popped off completely, iron nails sticking out of its ends. He repeated this process for the other three edges before carefully sticking the pane of glass to his fingers using chakra and pulling it back into the room with him. Setting it down carefully on the futon, he moved to the now empty hole where the window used to be.  

Kakashi poked his head out, looking across the darkened path. Seeing no one, hopefully all asleep, he vaulted through the empty frame and slunk around the corner of the house past the blacksmith.  

He just had to get to the fence unseen, then he could simply use a chakra-boosted jump to clear it and get as far away from the Uchiha clan as possible. 

Slinking through the shadows between the dark wooden huts that made up the compound, Kakashi soon found himself on the edge of one of the wide training fields that hugged the perimeter. Before stepping out into the open, he did a quick scan of the area. Through the darkness, he could make out a dark smudge of colour in the middle of the field. It could be nothing, or it could be a person.  

Kakashi briefly weighed the risks of exposing the sharingan to get a better look.  

Doing so in the middle of the Uchiha compound was undoubtedly a stupid idea. Still, he also didn’t want to make it halfway across the field only to stumble across some nin keeping a vigil or whatever rituals the Uchiha held for their dead. 

He lifted his hitai-ate and blinked open the sharingan before closing it just as quickly.  

What he saw was not what he expected.  

Uchiha Madara was lying flat on his back in the middle of the field. He had one arm draped over his face covering his eyes, and his hair was splayed around his head. With his battle armour removed, the Uchiha looked much smaller than Kakashi remembered. 

He hastily covered his scarred eye again, hoping the slight flare of chakra the sharingan created wasn’t noticed. 

Unfortunately, his hopes were in vain. Gods, how had Team Seven’s luck followed him all the way back to the past? 

The blur shot upwards, the edges of the Uchiha’s cloud of hair being the only thing visible to Kakashi’s eye, creating an amorphous dark smear in the night.  

“Who’s there?” Madara’s voice hissed through the black, obviously trying to keep his voice low for the sake of those sleeping in the houses around them, “Hikaku, if that’s you, I swear... I said I was going to sleep, I didn’t say where! I can’t be in there any longer, Izuna won’t stop whining, and I don’t want to undo the healer' s hard work by throwing him in the fucking pond. But I definitely will if you make me go back.”  

Kakashi blinked, not expecting to hear the infamous missing-nin complain of all things. He pressed back against the wooden building behind him, hoping the surely exhausted Uchiha would think he was imagining things.  

The clan leader sighed loudly before walking towards where Kakashi was trying to inch towards the edge of the building, “Are you ignoring me, Hikaku? I promise I’ll go back in the morning, I just don’t know why he decided to wake up the minute we got home, he couldn't have done it earlier and maybe done some of the walking back himself?”  

Before Kakashi could slip around the corner, two red orbs bled into existence as the Uchiha’s figure grew closer and clearer through the darkness, “Well, if you’re not going to acknowledge me at least let me see-”  

He stopped, and then groaned loudly.  

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Madara's voice's previously slightly embarrassed tone dropped into a flat monotone, “Why are you here? Didn’t Hikaku lock you in?” 

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I was really fancying a little stroll and-”  

He was interrupted by the Uchiha, who suddenly frowned and stalked forward much too far into Kakashi’s personal space. “I could have sworn I felt...”  

The Uchiha stared at Kakashi, sharingan spinning slightly, “What’s under the headband?” He demanded after a moment. 

The jounin felt his stomach drop. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. “Nothing, I lost the eye when I was a kid.” 

“Let me see.”  

“That's a little personal, don’t you think?” Kakashi hummed, trying not to belay the panic welling in his chest. He was firmly backed against the building at this point, with the Uchiha’s face having drawn close enough he could see every remarkably long eyelash that lined the glowing red eyes intensely focused on his hitai-ate. Kakashi noted that Madara had to look up to peer at him, not that it took away anything from how intimidating the man was at the moment. 

“I felt chakra. Familiar chakra.” The Uchiha reached out to try to move the article blocking his investigation.  

Diplomacy was overrated, Kakashi decided quickly. He ducked down and under Madara’s grasping arm, taking a few quick steps into the field.  

“Look, I’m really sorry, the hospitality has been lovely. But I’m afraid I must be going, urgent er... diplomat stuff to do.” He crinkled his eye winningly at the dark-haired man who had spun around to follow Kakashi’s movement with spinning tomoe. 

Madara did not look happy.  

“I don’t think so, Hatake.” He growled, eyes flashing. He reached for his waist before aborting the movement, seemingly realising he had no weapons on him. He snarled in frustration before glaring at Kakashi as if it was his fault the Uchiha was unprepared.  

“Uchiha-sama, I really don’t want to fight you, I have urgent business with the Uzumaki that cannot wait.” Kakashi actually wasn’t lying this time, he realised with subtle amusement. 

Madara seemed to consider him for a moment, though Kakashi couldn't see his expression through the darkness that swallowed him more and more the further Kakashi backed into the field.  

“Why couldn't you have just stayed in the hut... ” The low growl was all the warning Kakashi got before a fireball was rocketing towards his head. 

His hands flew through seals, bringing up an earth wall just in time to catch the fire racing towards him. The impact shook the wall and the area around him, sending cracks through his manipulated earth and producing a plume of dust that caught the dying firelight, lighting up the field in eerie dark orange. The Uchiha was already spitting another fireball at him, the bright orange and yellow of the flames throwing his sharp features into harsh contrast. 

“Hatake!” Madara yelled, giving up any pretence of preserving the solemn silence of the night, “I don’t want to hurt you; I just have questions! ”  

Kakashi did not want to stick around for Uchiha Madara’s questions. “Forgive me if I don't believe you while you're launching fireballs at my head!” 

“You’re the one sneaking out of the compound!” Came the accusation from the Uchiha. 

Kakashi was already moving, launching himself to the top of the fence on the far side of the field. Glancing over his shoulder, he decided to give diplomacy one last try, “Look, it’s not you, it’s me-”  

His very clever line was cut off as he was suddenly bodily tackled off his perch atop the fence.  

He was speechless.  

Shinobi didn’t just tackle each other. They used taijutsu, of course, but simply grappling with someone was seen as uncouth.  

Proper shinobi used blades, chakra, their fists, and anything they had at their disposal-  

Oh.  

Kakashi supposed the man didn’t have much else at his disposal, having been caught unawares trying to sleep. He still didn’t appreciate being tackled like he was still a genin. 

They landed hard in the grass on the other side of the fence, the impact of both himself and the Uchiha knocking the air out of Kakashi’s lungs. 

“Really?” He wheezed, “I honestly would have preferred to be barbequed.”  

Madara, who had landed awkwardly half-sprawled across Kakashi, quickly shifted to perch on his stomach. The downward turn of his mouth was barely visible in the darkness under spinning scarlet eyes, “Now, hold still.”  

He reached for Kakashi’s hitai-ate again while the jounin tensed his muscles, preparing to fling the Uchiha off him.  

A loud squeak sounded from a few meters away. 

The two men froze and turned to blink owlishly at the gangly Senju soldier who had appeared along the fenceline, parting the darkness with a brightly lit torch. 

The Senju, just a teenager really, blinked back at them with an open mouth, face rapidly turning red, “A-ah sorry Uchiha-sama, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, I just heard shouting and-”  

“You have got to be kidding me.” Madara groaned, dragging his hands down his face, “I’ve had enough of this day.” He turned the might of his spinning tomoe towards the reddening Senju. “What are you doing here? Answer quickly, or I will disconnect your head from your spine.”  

The Senju gulped, his blush fading quickly to be replaced with the paleness of fright, “U-um Hashirama-sama told me to wait by the village gate until I saw someone to give this to.” He pulled out a scroll sealed with a prominent blue Nara crest.  

Madara sighed before standing up. He glared at Kakashi, “This doesn't mean we’re done.” 


The Senju squeaked again. 

Kakashi carefully stood up, prodding his ribs to ensure nothing was broken. He wondered what business the Nara had with both the Senju and Uchiha—from what he could remember of his brief time at the academy, the Nara and their Yamanaka and Akimichi allies had stayed out of the matters of the Senju and Uchiha for a long time. They hadn’t even joined Konoha until the Nidaime came to power. 

He supposed it didn’t really matter to him. He just had to slip away without Madara threatening to separate his head from his spine. 

The Uchiha clan head had opened the scroll and scowled darkly at whatever was written. He glanced up at Kakashi, back at the scroll, and then back at Kakashi. He scowled even deeper.  

“Apparently, the Nara have requested both of our presences for a peace conference with the Senju.” He spat out venomously, “Hashirama thinks the presence of a proper diplomat will allow us to actually make some progress.” 

Kakashi once again cursed his cover story. 

Genma was going to give him so much shit for this. 




Notes:

Did I completely fudge the geography of the Elemental Nations? Yes
Am I proud? No
If this were a real map my geography lecturers would be very disappointed in me...
but it's not so HAH!

Also poor Madara just wants to sleep... is the universe conspiring against him?? Or is it just an evil author. 👀
_______________

Madara and Kakashi: *inadvertently finding themselves in compromising positions while fighting and not realising it*
Hikaku: *spits out drink* NO NO NO, NOT MY CHILD

Madara internally: *sobbing in relief that his brother woke up*
Madara externally: *definitely not emotionally constipated* You're alive. I'm glad.

Chapter 5: In which the Nara regret their decision to host

Notes:

CW// graphic description of death and imagery of blood

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

As they walked through the gates of the Nara compound, Madara was surprised to see not only the dark-haired Nara as he expected but also a contingent of Yamanaka and Akimichi waiting to greet them at the base of the tall trees lining the entrance. He knew the three clans were allies, but he hadn’t known they were close enough to warrant their presence at this meeting.

He felt uncomfortable with all the eyes looking at him, knowing they were expecting him to make a decision that could affect the future of the entire Land of Fire. 

That was a lot of pressure.  

Madara wasn’t good at people. Well, he was good at dismembering them but not much else. So the fact that everyone was looking at him to lead the Uchiha through this made him very twitchy.  

He was thrilled Izuna had been well enough to come with them, even if he was still moving slightly gingerly. They left for this summit the very morning after he received the scroll, so Madara had to begrudgingly credit Hashirama for vastly speeding the healing process of his brother's wound. Though it had made him sleep the entire, very long, walk home from the battlefield. 

The Akimichi greeted them with various refreshments, which Izuna was gleeful to see. 

They greeted the Yamanaka next, whose representatives included two kunoichi and an older woman whose pale pupil-less eyes unsettled Madara with how deeply they seemed to look into him. He wasn’t the only one put off-balance. Kakashi shifted uncomfortably beside him, seemingly not wanting to make eye contact with the older woman.  

One of the kunoichi let out a small nervous laugh at seeing their reactions, “Please don’t mind Kaede. She does that to everyone.” 

The old lady, Kaede, put on a surprisingly mischievous smile, “Well, it’s not my fault all of you younger nin are so suspicious of everything. For all you know, I could be a perfectly innocent old lady.” 

Izuna lifted an eyebrow, “Kaede-san, I just met you, and I'm already certain that isn’t true.” 

She looked at him consideringly before laughing loudly, “I like this one!” She peered into his eyes, “Let’s see, Izuna is it? Hmm, you have more love in your heart than you think, and you should talk to your brother more.”  

Izuna blinked wide-eyed at her before grinning excitedly, “Are you a fortune teller?” 

The other kunoichi frowned, “No, of course not. No one can tell the future, but Kaede-san is a highly respected mindwalker within our clan.” 

Madara frowned. He didn’t want anyone in his head. Hell, even he didn’t want to be in his head sometimes. 

Kakashi seemed to be of a similar opinion and took a subtle step back towards the rest of the Uchiha delegation.  

Kaede caught the movement and snapped her milky gaze to the masked shinobi, “Now you’re an interesting one, Hatake Kakashi. You’ve seen a lot of death and been the cause of much of it.” Her eyes widened slightly as Kakashi grew impossibly tense at Madara’s side, “You don’t belong here.” 

She suddenly stumbled backwards, causing the Yamanaka to move quickly to support her frail frame. She recovered and smirked slightly, “That was naughty, boyo. I don’t appreciate being forced out like that.” 

Kakashi tilted his head, his body eerily still, “And I don’t appreciate strangers digging in my head.” 

The two Yamanaka kunoichi moved in front of Kaede protectively, one spitting out a retort, “Kaede-sama can’t help it! She’s been using the technique for so long she can’t not hear .”  

Kaede nodded matter-of-factly, “It’s true, it’s the only reason they let me out of the compound these days; it's a great way to learn so many juicy secrets.” She winked before turning her gaze on Madara, “Like the fact that you think this is doomed to failure despite wanting it so desperately.”  

He stiffened.  

Hikaku returned to save the day, striding forward with a limp that still lingered, “It’s lovely to meet you, Yamanaka-san. We should probably go greet our hosts.” 

Madara nodded stiffly, letting Hikaku lead him away with a hand on his shoulder. As they walked away, Kaede cackled and called after them, “Oi Hatake! You should stop worrying so much, for once you're not late! In fact, I think you’re right on time.”  

The man in question shuddered slightly but didn’t miss a step in following Madara and Hikaku.  

Izuna chuckled and took a bite from one of the many food items he’d grabbed from the Akimichi, “What a nutter!”  

“Yeah.” Madara muttered, “Absolutely batty.” 

Kakashi didn’t say anything. 

After greeting a Nara representative, Madara, Izuna and Kakashi were quickly shown straight to the meeting room while Hikaku and the few Uchiha who had come with them were shown to their rooms.  

It seemed Hashirama wanted to start right away. 

As they entered the room, the Senju were already waiting around a low round table. Hashirama looked up with a bright smile, “Madara! I’m so glad you’ve finally accepted one of my invitations! I have so much I want to discuss with you!” 

The Uchiha grimaced. This was going to be unbearable.

Six hours later, Madara had unfortunately proven himself right. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seiza. The blue and black kimono Hikaku had made him wear was itchy and his back hurt from sitting on the floor for so long.  

Hashirama had not stopped talking, and even Tobirama looked near the end of his wits. 

Their host, the clan head Nara Shikara, had long since fallen asleep, head lolled back against the wall behind her.  

Madara wished he had a wall behind him to lean on. 

Beside him, Izuna scratched a Uchiwa fan under the table using a small dagger. Madara should have scolded him for defacing their host’s property, but he was just petty enough not to care.  

If he had a ryo for every peace invitation Hashirama had sent him, the Uchiha would have enough to buy armour for every clan member.  

He usually ignored them, or if Hashirama was being particularly annoying, he would burn the scrolls in front of him the next time they met on the battlefield.  

However, they usually didn’t include an invitation of hospitality from the Nara.  

And you didn’t ignore the Nara.    Though lazy, they were a scary bunch of bastards. They, alongside the Yamanaka and Akimichi, held the entirety of the southern part of the Land of Fire under the Aki mountains, rivalling the size of the territory controlled by either the Uchiha or Senju.  

They also produced a startling number of geniuses. Their tactics were the envy of many, and their ability to out-think their opponents had led to many a humiliating defeat for any that challenged them.  

Madara did not want to piss them off. 

So when he received the scroll from the Senju, who had idiotically camped outside the compound, he knew this wasn’t a scroll he could light on fire.  

It also had the unfortunate clause of requesting the presence of one Hatake Kakashi. 

Not that the man had been accommodating so far, having only chimed in a few times since they had arrived. 

The masked shinobi was a conundrum that Madara was itching to solve. Or stab. The feeling could be either at this point. 

He wanted to rip that stupid headband off the man’s covered face to see if the growing feeling of dread in his chest was justified. If the chakra surge he felt had indeed been a sharingan, then- 

Well, bloodline theft was a capital crime for the Uchiha. The sharingan was behind the power of their clan, their eyes were sacred to them. 

To think of a non-Uchiha having one... 

Madara was loath to consider the implications of how he obtained it. 

Of course, Madara could have been imagining it.  

To be fair, he had been running on very little sleep.  

He had known the silver-haired shinobi had been hiding things; he was trying to sneak out of the compound less than two hours after being brought there for sage's sake, but bloodline theft was not something he had remotely considered. Though the man was a mystery that seemed to have as many layers as this damn fancy kimono he was forced to wear, so he supposed it had to be given due consideration. 

Madara had been expecting to drag the man to the meeting in chains; however, he came along easily after Madara threatened to put him under a genjutsu. He knew Uchiha genjutsu was infamous, but he hadn’t expected the shinobi to be so intimidated by it. From what he saw of the man’s own skills in their admittingly brief exchange of blows, Kakashi seemed to be a competent shinobi. One that the mere threat of a genjutsu should not cow. 

Madara was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the door slipping open. The overpowering, sickly sweet smell of flowers drifted into the room, interrupting Hashirama's third rant about possible village infrastructure.  

Madara saw Kakashi visibly recoil and cover his mouth and nose with his hand. He wondered if the Hatake had some form of enhanced senses. 

Into the room stepped a pointy gold-veined wooden shoe, followed by a leg and then a man wearing a thick purple and gold kimono with a heavy fur-trimmed haori. Two guards followed him into the room. 

“I’m glad to see you are all here. I was afraid I had arrived too late.” The man’s lilting low voice didn’t match his face, which appeared to be smashed in with a pan, like one of those little dogs his brother was always fussing over.  

Hashirama jumped to his feet with wide eyes, “Your excellency! We weren’t expecting you!” 

The newcomer smiled a small ugly thing that turned his eyes into slits. Madara was violently reminded of a snake. “It’s always nice to be able to surprise a shinobi.” 

Izuna was instantly alert by Madara’s side, tucking his knife back into his sleeve and leaning over to hiss in his ear, “That’s Nakamoto Yemon, the Daimyo’s brother; he deals with the shinobi and the darker things of the land so the Daimyo can stay in his peaceful little capital and eat dango all day.”  

This was why Madara was infinitely grateful for his politically minded brother. 

Nakamoto examined each nin gathered around the table, gaze lingering on Kakashi for a moment before greeting Shikara, who was studying the official carefully, as if she hadn’t just been fast asleep. “Nara-san, it is a pleasure to be here. Thank you for your hospitality.”  

The dark-haired kunoichi blinked dark brown eyes at the ostentatiously robed man, “Nakamoto-dono, you would know if you were truly experiencing our hospitality.”  

The official smiled again, “I forgot what a pleasure you were to deal with. What a lovely smile.”  

The Nara’s mouth turned downwards, but she didn’t say anything.  

Nakamoto turned back to Kakashi, tilting his head, “You must be the stray Hatake diplomat I’ve heard so much about.” 

The man twitched beside Madara though he couldn't see his expression, “I wasn’t aware news of my presence here had spread, Nakamoto-dono, was it?”  

The man's thin lips curled up, “Indeed, the Daimyo’s court knows many things. You ninja never think to look down at those you step on, so I am here to represent the Daimyo in these peace proceedings. Peace proceedings taking place in part due to a diplomat who is not affiliated with either clan let me add.” 

Hashirama had regained a bit of composure and bit his cheek thoughtfully, “If you don’t mind me asking Nakamoto-dono, Hatake-san is affiliated with two clans that aren’t even in the Land of Fire. Why would his presence be objectionable to the Daimyo?” 

Nakamoto chuckled, tapping the end of the fan he was carrying against his chin, “I never said it was objectionable, Senju-san, merely that it was of interest to the Daimyo. Even more so is the seal he arrived in.” 

How had the court heard about the seal so fast? Madara was instantly suspicious; either he had a loose mouth within his ranks, or the Senju did. 

The official stepped fully into the room, one of the guards sliding the door shut behind him. “The implications of a long-distance travel seal is of the highest interest to the Daimyo and his generals, as you can imagine the military purposes for this could be...” He shuddered in excitement, “extremely useful.” 

Kakashi hummed, bringing a hand up to support his head as he leaned forward onto the table, “Well, you know the Uzumaki don't allow outsiders to use their seals, don’t you?”  

Yemon smirked, looking like a cat who just got his cream, “Well, it’s an excellent thing you’re not a Uzumaki, isn’t it Hatake-san?”   

Kakashi blinked slowly at the man, “Why would you think I know anything about the seal? I simply stumbled into it.” 

The official tapped the side of his temple, “I think whatever you could remember would be much appreciated by the Daimyo, and I’m under the impression that you have impeccable memory.” 

The air temperature dipped slightly and Kakashi straightened his spine from the habitual slouch Madara had come to expect from the man, “Mah, I wouldn't say that. I’m actually having a hard time remembering exactly why I should tell you anything.” The man’s visible eye was cold as ice. 

“Well, my source did say you would be difficult. I’ve learned many things about you, copy-nin .” Nakamoto opened his fan to cover the bottom half of his face.  

The tea in Madara’s cup frosted over. 

Nara Shikara clasped her hands in front of her, “Why are you here, Nakamoto-dono?” 

“You ninja are much too straightforward, no appreciation for the games of politics... Besides our interest in the seal, the Daimyo has sent me to express our concerns about this peace deal and whatever village you plan to build with it. That was your plan, wasn’t it? ” He lifted a brow inquisitively.  

Madara was this close to throwing his half-frozen tea in the man's face, how did he even know these things? 

“Would you force your dead to lay next to those whose brother killed their brother? Force mothers to have their children play with the children of those who killed their fathers? You may have idealistic views of a village together, but I am here to bring you back to earth.” Nakamoto coughed, “Well, the Daimyo is. My brother cares deeply about all the residents of the Land of Fire, even those who choose to murder each other for a living. We wouldn’t want anyone to live in such an uncomfortable situation, would we? ” 

Hashirama tightened his hand on his teacup; it cracked slightly down the side, “I appreciate your concerns, Nakamoto-dono, but-”  

Izuna snarled, interrupting the brunette, “He’s not wrong, Senju. You just expect us to live with those who we were just trying to kill!” He gestured towards Tobirama, “Your brother had his blade through me not too long ago, you think I’m going to let him be at my back?”  

Tobirama furrowed his brow at the younger Uchiha, “We are at war . If we were allies, I wouldn’t have tried to kill you.” 

Izuna leaned forward against the table, fingers inching closer to the blade in his sleeve, “And I’m just supposed to take you at your word?” 

Madara shivered as the room grew even colder.  

“Enough!” Hashirama slammed his hands on the table, rattling the frozen tea cups.  

He turned hard brown eyes onto the official standing before them, who had been watching the growing argument with slight amusement, “You have no business coming here to disrupt a peace process that has nothing to do with civilians. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Nakamoto folded his fan smoothly with a practised motion, “Of course, Senju-san, I’ve delivered the Daimyo’s opinion after all.” He motioned with the closed fan to Kakashi, “Would you like to return with me to the Daimyo’s court, Hatake-san? Or do this here?” 

Kakashi looked at the official with one dark eye, “Might as well do it here. I think the bloodstains will be difficult to get out either way.” 

The man had no time to react.  

The sound of chirping birds filled the room and Kakashi was moving faster than Madara could track. 

There was noise and motion and then suddenly, the masked shinobi had his arm inside of Nakamoto’s chest, lightning crackling around them both. The light illuminated the man's silver hair, making the visible sliver of his skin iridescent. 

Madara acted instinctually and was vaulting across the table before he could think, a hand wrenching Kakashi’s arm out and away from Nakamoto. His other hand grabbed the man by his hair and used it to force him onto the ground. 

Nakamoto let out a bubbling gurgle before folding backwards without Kakashi’s arm to hold him up, crimson leaking from his chest to soak into the bamboo floor. Nara Shikara groaned somewhere behind them, muttering about troublesome, violent Hatakes. 

The official smiled of all things and let out a few last wheezing words, “He said you might do that. Don’t worry. The court will come calling again. That seal is of the utmost importance.” Yemon coughed once, sending a fine spray of blood into the air before falling silent and staring blankly at the ceiling. 

Madara stared down wide-eyed at the ‘diplomat’ whose hand was covered with blood like a macabre glove, crimson drops dripping from fingers still slightly twitching from the aftershocks of the lightning jutsu. Madara felt strangely warm, and his hand tightened slightly in the shinobi’s hair. 

One of the guards stumbled backwards, hand scrambling for the sliding door. Yanking it open, he fled into the hall.  

The sound of the door snapped Madara out of his stupor, and he quickly snapped at Izuna, “Take care of that.”  

Izuna rose smoothly from where he was still sitting at the table, smirking at the two frozen Senju and prowling his way to the door, “As you wish, brother.” Sparing a wink for the one remaining guard standing still as a statue behind the official's cooling body, he slipped into the hall. 

Hashirama broke out of his shock, “Your diplomat just killed the Daimyo’s brother !”  

“He’s not my diplomat!” Madara squawked. 

Hashirama looked pointedly to where Madara’s hand was still fisted in Kakashi's snowy hair. It was quite nice hair, Madara noted in the back of his mind, the light grey strands surprisingly soft and fluffy against his fingers-  

What was he thinking? That was not important right now.  

He hastily released the shinobi, who rose off the ground and dusted off his pants, smearing blood across the fabric, “You know if you wanted me on my knees, you could have just asked, Madara-sama.”  

Madara flushed at the implication, “That was not my intention-” 

Tobirama snarled, banging his fists on the table and rattling the teacups. “Can you save whatever that is for later? You just murdered the shadow Daimyo! And we let you!” 

Madara looked to where Kakashi was methodically cleaning the blood off his hand with the hem of his shirt, lifting to reveal pale, toned skin.  

He looked away. 

Izuna slipped back into the room, startling the guard looking between all the nin like he would rather be anywhere else. Izuna leered at him before stabbing him in the throat and lowering the body to the floor. 

His eyes were glinting wildly, “I don’t want to alarm anyone, but we have a bit of a problem on our hands. Unless you were already aware of the battalion of court soldiers marching towards the gate.” 

The Nara clan head groaned and gave a poisonous glare towards Hashirama, “I swear, Senju... I hope you know I blame you for this.” She made her way to the door and left. 

Hashirama stared into the dregs of his teacup “Well, this wasn’t exactly what I expected to happen during a peace summit.”  

Madara snorted, “You want your peace Hashirama?” 

He’d never seen the Senju look at him that fast before, “Yes. More than anything. You know that, Madara.” 

Izuna turned to stare at him as well, looking murderous. 

“I propose a temporary truce. To get out of this situation. The Daimyo has sent soldiers to disrupt our peace talks, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t really appreciate civilians interfering in ninja matters.” Madara wasn’t sure how this was going to sit with Izuna.  

Tobirama had stood up and was pacing near the door, “It isn’t a stupid idea, brother, this was obviously a purposeful disruption. The Daimyo is threatened by the idea of us being at peace with the Uchiha.” 

Izuna glowered at everyone around him, “Are we just ignoring how suspicious Hatake is?”  

Madara met his brother’s furious gaze, “No. Our diplomat friend here has a lot to answer for.”  

Kakashi had finished cleaning his hand and glanced at Madara, “If we’re friends now, can I call you Madara-chan?” 

The Uchiha growled at the man’s audacity. 

Tobirama looked consideringly at Kakashi, who had leaned deceptively casually against the wall, “The Daimyo’s court knows who you are. And wants something from you.”  

Kakashi shifted uncomfortably, the downward twist of his lips visible through his mask, “It appears that way.”  

“And I'm assuming those are things you don’t want others knowing?” The albino gestured mockingly at Nakamoto’s body. 

One grey eye blinked back at him slowly, “Yes.”  

“Then we have a common enemy.” Tobirama shrugged, “You might as well work with us to find out who's behind this.” 

After a moment's consideration, Hatake crinkled his eye disarmingly at him, which would have been more effective if they all hadn’t just seen him elbow deep in a man's chest, “I would be honoured to work with you, Tobirama-san.” 

Hashirama walked over to stand by Madara. “So we’re agreed. Let's get out of here and remind the Daimyo why he stays out of ninja business.” 

This wasn’t how Madara expected this conference to go. Who knew the first step towards peace would start with a murder?  

He wasn’t complaining though. 

Notes:

Oop a plot has appeared, and a shaky peace has been established... y'all saw the politics tag right?

Also did I give give Madara a blood kink? uhhh maybe?

Nakamoto - central origin
Yemon - guardian (of the gate)

So, our villainous friend here fancied himself the protector of the center, the order, but uhhh kakashi wasn't quite feeling his brand of governance. Whoopsies

__

Nakamoto: *knows things he definitely shouldn’t*
Kakashi: welp guess my only solution is murder~
Madara: wait am i not supposed to be turned on right now

Madara before entering the meeting room: we're going into this to get it over with, nothing will ever come of this
Hikaku: good
Madara 6 hours ltr: ok we're at peace with the senju now oh and also kinda at war with the daimyo
Hikaku: what.

Chapter 6: In which Kakashi attempts some damage control

Notes:

I made some minor grammatical edits in previous chapters so I apologise if anyone got multiple emails!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Kakashi was rapidly concluding that he had messed up the timeline. 

Majorly.  

He wouldn't have cared about Hashirama’s grim expression as they discussed how to escape the compound or have focused on how Madara’s fingers had felt in his hair, but all of this was unprecedented. He was sure there had been no involvement from the Daimyo in the history of his Konoha.  

So he did care and did focus on how Madara’s hand had tightened on his hair (he loathed how he had had to fight back a shudder; when was the last time someone had touched his hair?), as whatever happened here could affect the founding of his village, and therefore his future.  

At least, he thought that was how it worked. Icha Icha hadn’t been exactly clear on the intricacies of the space-time continuum. 

He really wanted nothing to do with any of the founders; he had too many secrets, and any one of them could get him killed. However, he also had to make sure nothing too big derailed the founding of Konoha. He had to secure the future of his village for all of those he cared about. Would Naruto even exist if not for Konoha? Would Sakura? Would Sasuke? 

So, he had to help the founders. He had to ensure his Konoha would exist before figuring out a way back to it. 

A big part of his decision had been because of what the fuck was going on with the Daimyo’s brother. He had already been put off guard by that Yamanaka. Mind walking never sat well with him (they never cleared his psych evals in his time), so when the man had walked in burning his nose with his perfume, calling him by a nickname he definitely should not be known by in this time, he was understandably driven to take action.  

(How had he known who he was, was there someone else-) 

He was surprised by Tobirama’s pragmatic response. He seemed to recognise the value of Kakashi’s skills and utilised his interest in keeping his own secrets to enlist his help. The jounin recognised the manipulation for what it was, but this way, he could work to help get things back on track for Konoha and figure out how the hell that man had known who he was. 

(He just seemed interested in the seal; did that mean they didn’t know what it did?) 

Nara Shikara had told them about the back exit to the compound with a glare, telling them if they ever brought the court to her door ever again, she would use her shadow possession to walk them off a cliff. 

Kakashi was vividly reminded of a similar threat from his jounin commander, Nara Shikaku. The man was not a fan of Kakashi's loose interpretation of a mission report.  

They had stopped by the guest houses to pick up the rest of the Senju and Uchiha soldiers, and after Madara explained the situation to a blank-faced Hikaku, they were off. Ninja knew the value of a strategic retreat, and while Kakashi had no doubts they could wipe the ground with a bunch of civilian soldiers, they also wanted answers. Answers that would have to come from someone a bit higher up than a group of grunts sent to be killed by ninja. 

He fell in behind Madara and Hashirama as the group approached a small passageway tucked behind what seemed to be a bathhouse. It let up to the forest the Nara compound was pressed against and was doused in shadow by the late afternoon sun. Ahead of him, the two clan heads whispered with furrowed brows and animated hand gestures. Kakashi could picture the childhood friends they were meant to be overlaid over the two tired men.  

Beside him, Izuna glared daggers at the back of his brother's head, spinning a small knife in his hand.  

“Planning on stabbing someone else?” He remarked, might as well talk to the murderous Uchiha if he was going to stick around.  

In response, he received a dirty glance, “Planning on sticking your hand through someone else?” 

Kakashi guessed he deserved that. 

Izuna brushed past, knocking into him, and went to hover over his brother's shoulder.  

Well, at least he tried. 

Hashirama paused at the entrance to the passage and looked back to make sure everyone had made it, “We’re heading for the Naka river. It’ll be a few hours at walking speed. If you need to rest, be sure to alert one of us.” He glanced at Izuna, knowing his side was not fully healed. 

The Uchiha sneered at the Senju and then turned his glare to the ground.  

Madara nudged his brother sharply in his uninjured side, still causing Izuna to let out a grunt of pain, “Don’t be an idiot. Let me know if you need to slow down.”  

“And what is there to convince me you’ll actually listen to me? Maybe you’ll just trust the Senju.” He spat, tightening the white-knuckled grip he had on his knife. 

Madara raised a dark eyebrow, “So you’d rather be left in the Nara forest? I’m sure the deer will make excellent company.” 

Izuna twisted his lips into a small, ugly smile, “At least the deer aren’t going to betray their clan.” 

Madara’s lips twisted into a frown.  

Hashirama chuckled awkwardly, “OK! Well, let’s set off, shall we? The first journey of our temporary truce, how exciting!” 

Tobirama sighed, looking rather fed up with this already.  

Kakashi felt his pain.  

As they set off into the forest, the mood within the group was tense. The small group of Senju and Uchiha behind the leaders were walking as far apart as they could from one another without straying too far off the path. The leaders themselves didn’t look that much more comfortable. Hashirama tried to engage with Madara but looked nervous with Izuna hovering over his brother's shoulder. Tobirama kept pace with Kakashi, not saying anything but observing him carefully. It seemed he wasn’t exactly trusted yet.  

Not that it was a surprise. He was used to people being wary of him. 

The deeper into the forest they went, the fainter the path was defined, the more trees and bushes began encroaching on the trail, and the shadows stretched further. Leaves littered the forest floor, and Kakashi could hear the sounds of frogs and insects around them grow louder.  

He suddenly stiffened.  

Something felt wrong .  

He trusted his instincts intrinsically. And they were screaming at him right now.  

He dropped to the ground just in time to dodge the kunai that whistled through the air where his head had been.  

“Scatter!” Hashirama’s horse shout came, seemingly just as caught off guard as more kunai flew through the foliage.  

Kakashi launched himself into the trees above him, pulling a kunai out of his flak jacket. He quickly glanced around, taking stock of the situation.  

Madara had pulled Izuna off the path and hissed at him to stay put, much to the younger's aggravation. Hashirama had bounded off in the direction the kunai had come from, and Tobirama had followed Kakashi into the tree.  

The jounin frowned, “Civilians don’t use kunai.”  

“No. They don't.” The albino grimaced, “There’s ninja in the woods with us. I’m not sure how I didn’t sense them.” 

Kakashi quickly catalogued the weapons he had at his disposal. He didn’t have much. Not to mention his chakra reserves were running a bit low from the lack of sleep he’d gotten since he’d arrived. 

Tobirama cocked his head, “I think they’re-”  

“Hyuuga,” Kakashi said grimly.  

The Senju jerked his head to look at him wide-eyed, “How did you know?” 

The jounin gestured in front of them with his kunai to where a pale-eyed shinobi had settled on a branch a few trees over. Bulging veins gave away exactly which clan he was from. 

“Oh.”  

“Yeah.” Kakashi hated fighting the Hyuuga, how their gentle fist technique blocked his already strained chakra passages made Obito’s eye hurt like a bitch. 

The Hyuuga darted towards them before being abruptly knocked off his perch by a neighboring branch walloping him backwards to the forest floor. The cause of the forest’s revolt, Hashirama, landed next to his brother with a dour expression. 

“We need to move, there’s a lot of them on the way.” The Senju leader exhaled harshly, “I don’t like this. The ones I saw were wearing the seal of the Daimyo. Why would the Daimyo send his brother to talk to us and then a ninja clan right after? Surely the mere possibility of peace isn’t that much of a threat to him?” 

Tobirama sent a sideways stare to Kakashi, “If someone had felt a little less murderous, then we might have been able to get our answers from Nakamoto.” 

“What can I say? It’s part of my charm,” Kakashi drawled.  

The albino rolled his eyes and turned to his brother, “We should keep moving, they won’t be able to take us on an open field.”  

Hashirama looked at Kakashi with a measured gaze, “Can you fight?” 

Kakashi blinked. That wasn’t a question he got often.  

Madara landed beside them in a neighbouring tree, holding a hissing Izuna by the collar of his robes, “He can fight. The question is, will he fight for us.” 

Kakashi met the Uchiha’s questioning black eyes, “I made you a deal, didn’t I, Madara-chan? I stand by my comrades.”  

The Uchiha grimaced at the overly familiar address but nodded in acceptance, “Then we leave the forest and address them on open ground. The sharingan should be able to take these sub-par dojutsu users if we can actually see them.” 

“We can always see you .” The Hyuuga from before lunged upwards from the forest floor, arms stretched before him.  

Kakashi dodged to the side, jumped into another tree and threw his kunai towards where the Hyuuga was heading. It sunk into the meat of the shinobi’s thigh and the Hyuuga landed back on the ground with a pained grunt.  

More Hyuuga appeared in neighbouring trees, pale eyes appearing luminous in the shade of the forest.  

“Let's go, now!” Tobirama hissed, gesturing for the other Senju and Uchiha, who had found their way into the trees behind them, weapons drawn against the advancing Hyuuga. 

Izuna threw Madara off and started through the trees at a fast pace, leaving his brother to swear and chase after him, the Senju not far behind. 

Kakashi started after them, quickly catching up. He was very used to tree walking.  

As they bounded from branch to branch, the Uchiha leader grew level with him, dark hair waving like a banner behind him.  

Madara glanced at him sideways, “Why did Nakamoto call you copy-nin? 

He almost missed a branch.  

Did this man not forget anything convenient? 

“What a strange nickname, I have no idea... Perhaps it’s just in fashion in the courts at the moment?” He came back with. He didn’t know how else to deflect something clearly aimed at him. 

Madara glowered at him, “I think there’s another-” His eyes suddenly widened at something in the corner of his eye and he twisted mid-jump to shoot a fireball behind them.  

The Hyuuga weren’t bad at tree walking either and were closing in on them.  

Kakashi frowned beneath his mask. Though he and the rest of the leaders were probably fast enough to evade the Hyuuga, many of the others weren’t, especially the few still recovering from their battle not long ago. 

Hashirama seemed to have come to the same conclusion. He took one last leap to a sturdy tree before turning and planting his feet and hands on the branch. The Senju’s hair seemed to lift around him, defying gravity. 

And then the forest moved .  

Kakashi bounded past the Senju to land beside Izuna as the trees around him erupted into motion, leafy branches growing and flailing, saplings growing into spikes beneath the Hyuuga and great oaks bending and stretching into wide barriers.  

Kakashi had never seen anything like it.  

This was the true power of the Mokuton. Even Tenzou’s most extraordinary feats couldn't come close. 

Beside him even Izuna was paler than usual, reminded that even at his best the Senju was in a class of his own.  

“Go!” Hashirama bellowed over the noise of groaning wood, “Get to the river!”  

Kakashi wasn’t waiting for anymore encouragement and took off across the treetops, followed closely by Izuna and Tobirama, Madara and the rest of the soldiers not far behind. 

He moved fast, almost at ANBU pace, and was pleasantly surprised that the others kept pace, Izuna admittedly looking a bit haggard. Kakashi lost track of time, the familiar motions of jumping through the treetops a pleasant return to normalcy from what his life had become. They soon burst from the treetops to the sight of the rushing Naka river, a welcome sight. 

Tobirama waited at the treeline for any stragglers while Madara helped Izuna across the river with Hikaku. Across the water both Senju and Uchiha were getting a drink from the river, others sitting down on the grassy bank trying to calm their breath after the fast-paced dash through the forest.   

Kakashi joined Tobirama at the edge of the forest, “We still have to follow the river across the Aki mountains to get back to either the Uchiha or Senju compounds.”  

The albino grimaced, “I know. If we can’t make the Hyuuga leave us alone here then we’re in for a long, hard mountain crossing at speeds I’m not sure any of them can do.” He gestured to the recovering soldiers across the river.  

Kakashi felt the slow build of adrenaline starting to gather in his veins, “Then we have to stop them here.” 

He took a moment to look at what they had to work with. Tobirama and Izuna were undoubtedly powerhouses, though he was unsure of exactly what the Hyuuga were packing, again, his history lessons were somewhat lacking. There was also Madara, who Kakashi knew could take on just about anyone, however the Uchiha looked tired, bags that Kakashi had noticed when he first arrived had only grown, turning the man's pale face sallow. Hashirama was downright terrifying , but the jounin wasn’t sure even the legendary mokuton user could take on an entire army.  

Of course there was himself, but he didn’t want to necessarily pull out all the stops in current company.  

Madara bounded over the river again to join them, a concerned frown on his face, “My brother, in all his foolishness, reopened his wound.”  

Tobirama groaned, “Your brother is an idiot .”  

Madara sighed, raising a hand to scratch the back of his kimono collar, “Normally this is where I’d try and punch you, but I can’t really disagree in this case.” 

Kakashi’s eyes were drawn to how the man’s long tangle of hair lifted clear of his shoulders as he slid his hand up from his collar to rub at the base of his hairline. He drifted once again to the memory of those pale fingers in his hair, the tugging against the roots of his hair a pleasant hurt.  

He abruptly realised the Uchiha was becoming a distraction

Tobirama shifted his gaze back to the trees, “Hashirama is approaching. Quickly.” 

True to the prediction, the Senju burst out of the foliage moments after, a few twigs sticking out of long brown hair, “I’ve slowed them down. But I’m not sure for how long.”  

The four shinobi made their way back to the river, crossing it to join the rest. 

Madara paused next to a slumped over Izuna, who was holding his side as blood slowly turned his dark yellow kimono burgundy. The younger Uchiha was whining to Hikaku about how this was a new kimono. When the Senju approached he fell silent, and tensed the arm he had over his wound.  

Hashirama looked to Madara tentatively, “I can help again if you’d like me too.” 

At this Izuna broke his composure, “Why don’t you ask me?” He spat, “I’m the one who will have your Uchiha-murdering hands all over them!” 

Madara shot his brother a warning look, “Izuna.”  

“Madara.” Izuna shot back, “If you let that Senju lay his hands on me again I will rip out his throat with my teeth.”  

Hashirama blanched slightly while Tobirama took a protective step in front of him. 

Madara sighed, “I’m not going to make you do anything little brother, though if we’re about to fight the Hyuuga I would much rather have you at my side then at the sidelines .” 

The younger Uchiha scowled, “I can fight.”  

At this Hikaku snorts from his place crouched at Izuna’s side. “You’re not going anywhere with that wound, even if I have to sit on you and miss the battle myself.” 

Izuna was quiet, the rushing river and the low chatter of the nin around them the only noise Kakashi could hear.  

Tobirama suddenly stiffened, “They’re here.”  

Kakashi turned to the treeline, where the bedraggled Hyuuga were emerging. Many had leaves stuck in their hair and one particularly irritated kunoichi had what looked like a pitcher plant latched onto her ankle.  

Madara chuckled, “You didn’t go easy on them, did you Hashirama?”  

The Senju smiled brightly, “You’re the only one I ever do!” 

Both Tobirama and Hikaku groaned, the latter muttering about how ‘why can’t they even try .  Izuna just snarled in the Senju’s general direction and tried to struggle to his feet to face the threat, only for Madara to shove him to the ground again with a squawk. 

Kakashi was struck again by how bizarre his situation was. 

One Hyuuga emerged from the rest, an older shinobi with dark brown hair pulled into a tidy top knot, “Senju Hashirama, Uchiha Madara, I am here on the wishes of our ruler, the Daimyo, Nakamoto Daiki. The Hyuuga clan is honoured to represent our great ruler and humbly requests your attention for his declaration.” 

Kakashi had to choke back a giggle, these Hyuuga were just as pretentious as the ones from his time. 

Hashirama strode forward to the very edge of the river, small eddies swirling where his toes dipped into the water, “Hyuuga Hisoka, our clans are not enemies. Are you sure you want to change that?” 

Hisoka set his heavily veined eyes to look at the mokuton user, “Our clans need not be enemies today. All I wish to do is proclaim the Daimyo’s will.”  

A Hyuuga shinobi with vines wrapped tightly around their limbs staggered forward, pressing an ornate scroll into Hisoka’s outstretched hand. 

Madara rolled his eyes from beside Kakashi, “So much pomp for such an inferior clan.” 

Tobirama snorted in agreement, “Somehow they’re even more full of themselves than you.”  

The Uchiha sent him a sideways glare in place of a response.  

Kakashi couldn't believe these were the founders of Konoha. 

The Hyuuga leader cleared his throat audibly, “By proclamation of the Daimyo, his excellency Nakamoto Daiki, the Uchiha and the Senju are declared enemies of the court. 

Madara crossed his arms defensively and the soldiers behind them shifted uncomfortably. 

Hashirama chewed his cheek in contemplation, “Does his excellency have a reason for this declaration?” 

Hisoka met his gaze levelly, “You have proved yourselves enemies of the court by attempting to build a rival capital for the Land of Fire and attempting a ninja uprising to overthrow the reign of the honourable Daimyo, and by associating with the traitor Hatake Kakashi.”  

Kakashi jolted as the Hyuuga turned his activated byakugan to him, “Traitor, you have been found guilty of withholding key information from the court, and for killing his excellency's brother Nakamoto Yemon.” 

It took all he had not to burst out into hysterical laughter, Yemon hadn’t even been dead until a few hours ago, how had he already been found guilty? 

Tobirama had his face scrunched as if he was smelling one of Gai’s sandals, while Hashirama looked like he was swallowing an angry response 

Madara had no such qualms about staying silent, “What are you talking about? Ninja uprising? We weren’t even going to stop fighting the Senju if that idiot hadn’t interrupted our meeting.” 

Hisoka raised his lip at the Uchiha, “I do not need to answer the questions of traitors.” 

He rolled the scroll shut and handed it over his shoulder to the vine-wrapped shinobi before fixing the clan leaders with another pale pupil-less stare, “You have until the end of the month to leave the Land of Fire.” 

The air grew cold around the founders, the grass frosting over. Hashirama’s breath in particular came out in a cloud of fog, ice crackling out into the river from where his toes hung over the bank. 

Kakashi shivered, this was the Shodaime’s true power.  

Hashirama's tone was more serious than the jounin had ever heard before, “What if we don’t leave.” 

The Hyuuga blinked, “Then the Daimyo will make you.”  

Madara glared across the river with blood red eyes, having activated his sharingan, “Who’s going to enforce that,” He sneered, “You?” 

Hisoka smirks slightly, “Remind me which clans have been at war for generations, losing the strength they used to have, while others have been biding their time, making connections and are stronger than they’ve ever been. You may have been able to best us once Uchiha, but now...” He chuckled, “I think you don’t stand a chance.”  

Izuna had staggered to his feet again and was leaning heavily against Hikaku’s side, “I’m going to make you wish you never opened your mouth, Hyuuga.” 

Hisoka gestured mockingly to the few soldiers behind them, “With what strength little Uchiha? You can’t even stand on your own.” 

Hashirama appeared to have had enough.  

The trees behind the Hyuuga shuddered, Hashirama’s hair blowing slightly as if in a breeze that Kakashi couldn't feel, “With this strength, Hyuuga. Do you really want to test me?”   

The Hyuuga raised his hands swiftly to mollify the angry shinobi, “I am only the Daimyo’s humble servant. I have delivered his message and leave you to your deliberations.” 

He turned and walked back to the forest, Hyuuga shinobi and kunoichi disappearing into the branches. 

They waited in silence for a few minutes until Tobirama sighed and said they were all clear. 

Hashirama released a ragged breath, hair falling limply down his back from where it had been blowing unnaturally, “We can’t leave . This is our home. Our ancestors are buried in this land and we must stay to carry out their Will.” 

Madara nodded, “The Uchiha have Amaterasu’s blessing, we must stay here to make sure the Fire of this land still burns. We will not leave this land while we still breath.” 

Tobirama was silent, watching the two clan leaders carefully. Izuna was still breathing harshly from his place on the ground, fists pulling up clumps of grass from around him anxiously.  

Hashirama looked up, a slightly more determined light in his eyes, “ I know a valley that's tucked away near the foothills of the Aki mountains, we just have to follow the Naka. We can regroup there and figure out what to do.” 

Madara looked away from the treeline towards the Senju, sharingan still spinning sluggishly, “I know where that is.” 

Hashirama gave a small jerk of a nod, “We went there as children. Might as well mourn our dreams of peace at the place we hoped to realise them.” 

Kakashi realised with a jolt they were talking about the valley where Konoha was supposed to be established.  

They were going there to give up

Kakashi couldn't let that happen.  

Wait-  

Could he-  

(He had to get this back on track somehow, Konoha had to exist) 

He cleared his throat, drawing four sets of eyes, “What if we stayed there?”  

A blink from Madara, “What do you mean?” 

Kakashi rubbed a mask covered cheek, “What if we stayed there and built the village you two dreamed of. You said the valley is somewhat protected right? We can build defenses, together the Senju and Uchiha would be very formidable. You could defend against whatever the Daimyo throws at you.” 

The Uchiha fixed him with an unreadable look, “Why would you care about the fates of our clans? You can leave the Land of Fire without being beholden to anyone. You’d be breaking the Daimyo’s decree by staying.” 

Ugh, was he really going to do this? 

Yes, he supposed, he would do anything for Konoha. 

“So would you.” Kakashi looked up to lock on to softly spinning tomoe, “Those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash. I meant what I said earlier about working with you to find out who's behind this. If you plan on staying in the Land of Fire, so do I.” 

Gods he hoped this worked. 

Notes:

I just wanted to thank everyone for reading this, it means alot to see that other people are enjoying my little pet project. 💛💛

I also appreciate you sticking around through these more plot heavy chapters, they're establishing some important points for later on I promise! To make up for it the next few chapters are more light, with a dash of melancholy that is kinda unavoidable with these two. That 'founding of Konoha' tag finally coming into play!

I know Hashirama is portrayed a lot as like a happy go lucky guy, but like, dudes also terrifyingly powerful so I'm trying to portray that as well.
Also i'm ~definitely~ fudging more geography, so uhhh im sorry?
____

Madara:...
Kakashi:...
Madara: So about all those secrets you're keeping
Kakashi: WHY CAN'T YOU LET IT GO

Chapter 7: In which foundations are established

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since they’d travelled up the river, and Izuna still wouldn’t speak to him.

Madara didn’t know what to do. Izuna had been mad at him, but he expressed that anger by shouting and cutting holes in his brother's favourite socks, not completely ignoring him. 

Hikaku had told him to give him time, that Izuna wasn’t used to being around so many Senju, and that he would adjust. Madara wasn’t so sure.  

His brother spent all of his time in what was designated as the Uchiha zone of their encampment, and occasionally, fireballs could be spotted from behind the hut Izuna had chosen as his own, not wanting to share with Madara the way they used to. 

He was trying to convince himself the sharp pain in his chest was a pulled muscle.  

He wondered if it was worth trying to track down an earth jutsu user to dig out a space for a new koi pond. The return to a familiar pattern might snap Izuna out of it, and it would be rather cathartic for his older brother.  

The clan leader was under a lot of pressure, and the elders were not impressed with his decision to go along with Kakashi’s hair-brained plan. He wasn’t sure himself why he had gone along with it. 

The mysterious shinobi had seemed almost sheepish when explaining his idea, a sharp contrast from the calm aura he’d affected previously. Madara wasn’t sure if either was the shinobi’s true personality, but the Senju seemed convinced. Well, at least Hashirama had. Madara had never seen the brunette so enthused about something, besides maybe beating him at skipping rocks when they were kids.  

(He was still bitter about losing most of those contests) 

Something about Hashirama’s unflinching determination, Tobirama’s grudging support, and Kakashi’s odd sincerity convinced Madara that this might be the only chance he had to realise his dream.  

So he took it.  

And Izuna detested him for it.  

He wished Izuna realised he was doing this for him , so his little brother didn’t have to fight anymore. 

It was painful, but even his brother's quiet hatred couldn't quite make him regret it. 

Seeing more and more Uchiha and Senju trickle into the valley in small guided groups was something of a miracle. He and Hashirama would sit atop the red-gold cliffs that looked over the village to eat lunch almost daily and watch the tentative beginnings of interactions amidst verdant leaves.  

His old friend wouldn’t stop smiling wistfully down at the buildings he’d brought up. The mokuton made raising buildings ridiculously easy, and they already had the skeleton of a small village, with separate living quarters for Uchiha and Senju and communal buildings. The most critical piece of construction, however, was the perimeter wall set back a while from any of the buildings. Madara initially wanted it closer in to make it easier to patrol, but Kakashi and Tobirama had argued to make it further out, allowing room to grow.  

The newcomer had been suspiciously helpful with planning the village, aiding Hashirama with the locations of certain buildings, even going as far as to complain that the angle of one particular housing building would create a terrible glare from the sun in the mornings. Madara wasn’t sure why he cared. It wasn’t like he had to live there. 

The Hatake was just as much of a frustration as he had been weeks ago. Once they arrived in the valley, Madara tried repeatedly to corner the man to finally get some answers, but he was never where Madara expected him to be.  

The Uchiha would wait in the evenings by the hut on the edge of the development Kakashi had chosen, only for the man to ‘suddenly’ decide to go for a scouting trip that night. He would wait in the middle of a path he knew the Hatake had just turned down, only for the masked shinobi to change routes onto the rooftops in the opposite direction.  

He was avoiding Madara.  

The Uchiha was not amused.  

He was one of the most powerful shinobi in this damn village, he had the mangekyou sharingan, and every Senju he came across leapt out of his way in fear. Who was Hatake Kakashi to be able to evade him? 

Unfortunately, instead of tracking down the man, Madara’s time was fully engaged with other matters. Either he was being shouted at for hours by the Uchiha elders or in tense meetings with the Senju about how to prepare for the Daimyo’s inevitable response.  

Another consideration was the mountains of paperwork that seemed to grow overnight. He’d been clan leader since his father died, but this was never something he thought the position entailed. He fought and killed for the Uchiha and made sure enough raiding parties went out to bring back enough food to feed them for another week. He knew it all in his head. Why did he have to write it down? 

Tobirama had seemed particularly insulted by the Uchiha’s disdain for paperwork and had found a like mind in Hikaku. The two were working to combine the two clans' ledgers and inventory the weapons and supplies they had available for the upcoming conflict. He’d been by a few times to check on them, but last time his cousin had just glared at him and berated him for ‘failing to keep proper training records.’  

He didn’t stop by very often after that. 

Still, even without the cursed paperwork, Madara was busy . Currently, he was stalking down one of the new pathways in search of Hashirama. The Senju had agreed to a meeting with the Uchiha elders to calm some of their fears about losing clan autonomy under new village rules, but the man hadn’t shown up at the arranged time. So, with the complaints of annoyed elders ringing in his ears, he scoured the area for a sign of the brunette. 

Every time he managed to catch someone's eye to ask where the Senju was, they just blanched and scurried back into whatever building they were nearest to. 

Madara’s eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion, and his hair was a big black cloud so tangled that he got his fingers stuck in it the previous day when he tried to briefly finger-comb it. Izuna was the only one usually able to tame his hair, but he wasn’t exactly an option right now. So Madara was very aware of the crazed figure he likely presented. But he couldn't have people running from the mere sight of him! 

He bristled in irritation as even an Uchiha shinobi froze with wide eyes at the sight of him “Oi! Have you seen Hashirama?”  

The man shook his black hair rapidly, curls flying every which way, “A-ah no, Madara-sama, but my cousin mentioned she’d seen him with Hatake-san by the administration building earlier.” 

Of course it was Hatake. Madara somehow knew he was to blame for this latest annoyance, as he was for so many in his life lately.   

He spat a few embers in irritation at the ground, causing the Uchiha shinobi to yelp in surprise, before leaping onto the rooftops for a quicker journey to the administration hut. Well, he called it a hut, but it had expanded dramatically from what they had erected upon first arriving in the valley. Now it was more of a small tower, with multiple floors holding rooms for everything from meeting space, offices, and even an observation area at the top to watch over the rest of the village. Hashirama was very proud of his creation, and the whimsical orange roofs he added were a testament to how happy he was with how it turned out. 

He vaulted over a newly set up ramen stand to the gasps of customers; food stands like that were popping up every day. Tobirama had been in a mood during yesterday's meeting cause most of them weren’t applying for permits. Hashirama was just happy that they existed. 

As he made his way closer to the tower that had become the centre of their development, he spotted two familiar heads of brown and silver at its base, huddled over what looked like another sheath of papers. Gods, could Madara not escape it anywhere? 

“Madara!” He heard the surprised squawk of Hashirama as he landed neatly in front of them with a whoosh of air, scattering the papers held clutched in the Senju’s hand. Kakashi simply blinked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

Ignoring the bane of his existence, he turned to glare at Hashirama, “You’re late, Senju. I think the elders might actually try and kill you with their canes this time.” 

The Senju froze briefly before groaning loudly and covering his face with his hands, “The meeting was today, wasn’t it.” He peeked out of his fingers to be greeted with Madara’s glower. 

Yes, Hashirama, we were supposed to meet at noon.” Madara felt bad for how obviously busy his friend was, but he certainly wasn’t going to take the blame from the elders for this. They already shrieked at him enough as it was. 

Kakashi chimed in from where he was smoothly gathering the papers out of the dirt, “You go to your meeting, Hashirama, I can handle assigning the wall patrols for the day.” 

Madara spun to look at him with a snarl, “No, you most certainly are not! That is much too important to the security of the village to be trusted to you !” 

Kakashi tilted his head in a catlike manner, “You’re still just calling it the village? Doesn't it need a name?” 

Hashirama gasped and even bounced slightly in excitement, “You’re right! It needs a name! What do you think, Madara?” 

Madara clenched his fists and seethed, “Did either of you hear a word I just said? There’s no way he’s the diplomat he’s claiming to be. He’s not trustworthy!”  

Two brown eyes and one grey eye blinked at him slowly. 

“What?” He snarled; how was what he said any more ridiculous than Hatake’s deflection?  

Hashirama took pity on him, “Madara, we knew he wasn’t a diplomat when he stuck his arm through the Daimyo’s brother.” 

Madara spluttered slightly. Why weren't they pressing him about his actual identity then? 

Kakashi shuffled the papers he had picked up, “Well, I should be going, these patrols aren’t going to organise themselves, and I wouldn’t want you to be even later to your meeting.” 

Hashirama smiled at him, “Alright, are you still coming by for dinner? I wanted to discuss your idea about fortifications beyond the perimeter.”  

Kakashi dipped his head, “I’ll bring the sketches as well.”  

The Senju beamed, “Perfect! I’ll see you then!”  

Madara was left gaping at the interaction as Hatake darted into the administration building without another word.  

Hashirama reached out and tugged slightly at the Uchiha’s sleeve, “Come on, Madara, the elders are going to be upset enough.” 

He ripped his arm out of the Senju’s grip and began to stomp down the street, fixing the Senju at his side with his scariest glare, “You better explain right now, or I’m going to send some fireballs at that lovely tower you’re so proud of.” 

A group of younger Senju waved at Hashirama as they walked past, eyes widening in fear when they spotted Madara beside him. 

Hashirama waved back to them with a grin, “You should really try to look a bit friendlier, everyone is so scared of you.”  

Madara frowned, “They should be scared. I’m scary.” 

The Senju let out a ringing laugh, “I don’t think you’re scary! More like a wet cat constantly hissing at everything.” He glanced sideways at Madara with a sly look, “I wonder what all that hair would look like if you fell into the Naka.” 

Madara knocked into Hashirama’s shoulder, “Don’t even think about it, Senju.” His scowl faded slightly at his friend's antics. 

“Ah! Is that happiness I spy on your face?” The brunette beamed, as if his mission in life was to get Madara to smile.  

Even as he tried to shoot him a glare, the Uchiha had to begrudgingly admit that Hashirama made it very difficult to hang onto his foul mood.  

“Look around, Madara,” Hashirama sighed, “Look at what we’ve built.” 

Madara took a moment to glance around the street they were moving along, a connection between the main communal buildings and the Uchiha housing area. Both clans were gathered in the common spaces, the food stalls Tobirama had been up in arms about full to the brim with children, shinobi, and non-combatants alike. A few civilians who lived in a nearby settlement had come in the last few days, seeking to sell their wares to the new market of ninjas. Their colourful, haphazard stalls were set up selling cloth, pots and pans, and even toys for children. They also brought in much-needed food while they were transferring over supplies from their old compounds. While Senju and Uchiha weren't exactly intermixed, they were at least coexisting in the same space. 

It was like a dream.  

It had only been two weeks and yet so much had been accomplished.  

“I can’t give this up.” Hashirama admitted more seriously, “I don’t trust Hatake. But we need his help.” 

Madara looked at Hashirama sharply. Perhaps his friend wasn’t quite as stupid as he appeared.  

The Senju was looking back at him, a calculated gleam in his eyes, “Of course I know he’s hiding things from us. I’m not an idiot, contrary to popular opinion.”  

The Uchiha ducked his gaze, feeling slightly abashed.  

Hashirama continued with quiet conviction, “Tobirama is an excellent sensor, he says Kakashi is remarkably powerful. He also says he seems genuine in his efforts to help the village. The Daimyo is a powerful enemy, and I still can’t figure out how he knew about our plans to build a village...” He shakes his head in puzzlement, “so we need every advantage we can get.” 

Madara didn’t know how he felt about this; it wasn’t in his nature to just accept liars. He also had his own suspicions about some of the things Kakashi was hiding that he just couldn't let go of.  

(Bloodline theft was not something he could overlook. Even for the sake of Hashirama’s peace.) 

But he grudgingly could see the Senju’s point. The two clans were in a vulnerable position. By denying the Daimyo’s orders to leave, they were at the mercy of whatever he chose to do with them. While together, the two clans were very formidable, they would still struggle if the full might of the Land of Fire was thrown against them, especially if the Daimyo ended up hiring more ninja than just the Hyuuga. Whatever Kakashi knew could help them, especially if he was as powerful as they theorised.  

“So we’re using him.” He responded after a moment. 

“And I’m sure he knows it too, but as long as we don’t really talk about it he seems happy enough to help out.” Hashirama let out a small sigh and sent Madara a reproachful stare, “and with everything to do, the help is much needed, especially when somebody doesn't fill out any of his forms.” 

Madara slumped slightly, “I thought Hikaku was doing my part...” 

The Senju snorted, “Hikaku is doing some of your part. Do you even know how much paperwork is involved with opening even one food stall?” 

“Well, I certainly do after your brother spent all night going on about it.”  

Hashirama laughed, “My brother is certainly spirited about bureaucracy!” He turned a corner to approach the Uchiha buildings, “Come on, let's get this over with. If they’re anything like the wizened fools that make up the Senju council, this isn’t going to be fun.” 

Madara sighed. It certainly wouldn't be fun, the Uchiha elders liked the Senju as much as they liked Izuna when he decided to be a musician. That is to say, they detested him. Though even Madara had to admit his brother should never touch the flute ever again. He shuddered in memory, his poor ears. 

As the two shinobi approached the building, they heard shouting from inside.  

Madara sighed, “That would be Norio, he’s-”  

The shouting suddenly cut off and the meeting hall doors burst open with a bang, “It’s about time you showed up.” A short, white-haired man stood in the doorway with an oddly sharp cane clutched in his hand. 

The clan leaders winced and Madara quickly scrambled for a reply, “Sorry, Norio-san, we got a bit delayed.” 

The elder huffed before standing aside to let them enter, “Your father never would have allowed this. You know, back in his day, the clan never would have-” 

Hashirama sent him a commiserating glance. This was going to be painful.  

Surprisingly, though, the most painful part of the meeting didn’t come until it ended.  

Madara massaged his foot with a grimace as Hashirama gaped at the slightly swinging door, “I can’t believe they all trod on your foot on their way out!”  

His foot twinged within his grip. Norio’s cane was a menace , “This is why I wear boots instead of sandals, Hashirama.”  

His friend spun to look at him wide-eyed, “Why do you let them do that?” 

Dropping his booted foot back to the floor, he raised his arms above his head to stretch out his back, “It’s either that or have them verbally tell me they disapprove, and I just don’t have time to deal with more of their complaining.”  

The Senju blinked at him before striding over to the door with a frown, “By the sage, even the Senju elders aren’t that bad...” 

It was twilight as the two men exited the building, deep purples and blues painting the newly cleared dirt paths and making the skeletons of half-built buildings cast eerie shadows in the half-light. Just beyond the buildings, Madara could hear the rustle of the leaves, the trees of the valley protecting them from the outside world.  

“Were you serious about needing a name for this village?” He inquired, tilting his head at Hashirama consideringly.  

The Senju nodded enthusiastically, “Not just for the intrinsic value of it, but also to give us all a name to unify over. With a name to protect, our clans are more likely to defend it more fiercely than just some nameless settlement.” 

Madara scratched his head, fingers catching in a knot, “I’ll think about it. Izuna might have some ideas. He’s good at naming things.” 

It would also give him another excuse to try and talk with his brother, though the topic of the very thing he was so upset about may not be the best idea... 

Hashirama nodded with a small smile, “Tobi is still at the tower. Do you mind stopping by to check on him? I’m going to pick up dinner for us and he's going to forget about it unless someone reminds him.”  

The Uchiha shifted on his sore feet; it really was the least he could do for the overworked Senju brothers, but he really wanted to go home and eat dinner himself. 

Oh hells, he owed Hashirama.  

He nodded his acquiescence to be greeted with a blinding Senju smile, “Brilliant! Thank you so much ‘Dara!”  

Before Madara could react to whatever that nickname was supposed to be, the Senju was gone, leaping over rooftops towards where most of the food stalls had set up.  

He sighed. Hashirama was still similar to the boy he used to be when they met by the river, but he had grown cunning in the years they’d been apart. The Senju was running this whole show, and it felt like Madara was being dragged along whether he wanted to or not. With the threat of the Daimyo hanging over their heads, it was hard to fully focus on what they were building up. This village was his dream too, and he feared he’d been fighting for so long that he’d almost forgotten that. Ironic that for a clan that prided themselves on their eyesight, he seemed to have been blinded by blood. 

He shook himself out of his thoughts and started off towards where the tower was looming over the rest of the town. He would have time to ruminate later.  

Not many people were out, without any form of lighting setup yet, the setting sun drove most people back to their homes for the night. It was almost a relief not to see any more terrified looks as he strolled by, though the smell of cooking food drifting from the houses lining the path made his stomach rumble in jealousy.  

As the entrance to the tower grew clearer in the rapidly fading light, he froze as a familiar silver head bobbed out of it.  

He quickly darted into the alley beside the tower, pressing himself against the wall hidden by the lengthening shadows. This was his chance. He could abide by Hashirama’s decision not to enquire too deeply into the masked shinobi’s story; however, there was one thing he needed to know. 

Kakashi had presumably ditched the bushel of papers Madara had last seen him with, and the man instead had his hands tucked into his strange green vest as he strolled away from the administration building. 

As he passed by where Madara was doused in shadow, he froze for a millisecond before tensing to jump away. 

Madara wasn’t about to let him slip away again. He darted forward to grab the man and pulled him backwards into the alley, pinning him by the shoulder against the tower wall.  

“No more running away,” He snapped, “You’re going to tell me exactly what I want to know.” 

He activated his sharingan, watching Kakashi’s grey eye widen infinitesimally in the extra detail of his enhanced vision.  

“Mah, Madara-chan, in a position like this, it seems like you might want more than just to talk-” 

Kakashi was cut off with a gulp as Madara shifted the hand at his shoulder to his throat, leaning his weight against the taller man. 

Stop bullshitting me ”, He hissed, pressing his thumb into the hollow of the man's masked throat, feeling his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, “You can keep most of your secrets, but I need to see your other eye.”  

The silver-haired man was tense under his hand but wasn’t trying to escape. His visible eye was a stormy grey so dark that Madara was nervous for a second that the lightning he had produced weeks ago would appear out of it. 

“Would you like to release me first?” Kakashi asked dryly. 

“Not really. You’ll run away again.” 

“I am very good at running away.” He amended, shrugging slightly under Madara’s tight grip. 

Madara was aware he had many merits. Patience, unfortunately, was not one of them.  

He reached with his free hand for the oddly patterned metal plate covering the man's eye. His fingertips had barely grazed it when the world suddenly spun around him and he found his own back flush against the administration building, a forearm banded across his throat and collarbone.  

Madara inhaled a harsh breath. Kakashi was very close to him, and he could feel the lines of his body pressing him into a knot in the wood behind him.  

“Don’t you know it’s rude to remove someone's clothing without permission?” Hatake drawled, cocking one silver brow at Madara. 

Madara snarled at him; how dare he!? He jerked against the restraining arm, fingers scrambling for a grip on the tight black fabric hugging the man’s arm. With a start, he realised that he didn’t know precisely how strong Kakashi was, as the other man seemed to be keeping Madara pinned with ease. 

Something dark curled low in his stomach, mixing with his frustration and anger to create a vicious desire to rip the coverings off the silver-haired nin's face, “Let go of me right now or I will burn you.” He ordered through clenched teeth. 

Instead, Kakashi leaned closer to him, “Madara, I can’t show you what’s under my hitai-ate.” His tone was low and level, a far cry from the teasing lilt of earlier. His eye was equally as severe, the grey of storm clouds having lightened slightly to a colour more reminiscent of river rocks. 

Madara looked up at him, flashing his sharingan threateningly, he didn’t want to hurt Hashirama’s asset, but he wanted Hatake to know he hadn’t ruled it out, “And I can’t let you be in this village if you’re a bloodline thief.” 

“I’m not a bloodline thief.” The response was even quieter, almost as low as a whisper.  

“But you have a sharingan.” He prodded, digging his fingernails into the forearm at his throat. He hoped it hurt. 

Kakashi was silent. 

It was answer enough for Madara. 

“Why?” He uttered, the buzzing rising in his ears droning out any sounds of the night around them. 

There was a rush of air, and Madara stumbled slightly forward away from the wall, the pressure holding him there gone.  

Kakashi stood across from him in the narrow alley, arms crossed, leaning against the opposite wall. The sun had long set, and the man's hair almost glowed in the moonlight, “It was a gift.” 

“A gift,” Madara repeated in a monotone, fingering the hem of his sleeve. 

The other shinobi inclined his head slightly, staring intently at the ground. 

“I hope you know that I can’t just believe that.” Madara could barely hear himself over the static in his ears. 

“I know.” Kakashi looked up from the dust, flat eye meeting Madara’s spinning gaze. 

Madara got that same odd sense that the man was telling the truth that he had back when they first met and he had claimed not to have meant Izuna any harm.  

His instincts told him to trust Kakashi even though he had no reason to. He wondered if they were broken. They made him trust Hashirama once upon a time, after all. 

The buzzing slowly dropped out and he let his sharingan fade back to obsidian. He opened his mouth to reply only to be interrupted by a loud throat clear right above him.  

He twisted and flung a kunai from his sleeve in an automatic response. It was caught by an unamused-looking Tobirama, “If you’re gonna go around flaring your chakra like teenagers, you both have perfectly good homes to go to rather than the alley right below my office.” 

Madara felt the tips of his ears burn, and he clenched his fists. Stupid Senju’s had the worst timing.  

Kakashi leaned over his shoulder to address the Senju leaning out of his second-floor window, making Madara stiffen in surprise at his sudden repeat proximity, “Of course, Tobirama-san, apologies for the disturbance, Madara-chan here was just a bit excited.” 

The Uchiha straightened his back in indignation, spinning around to be face to face with the Hatake, “I was- we’re not- you-” He sputtered.  

Kakashi crinkled his visible eye and moved towards the exit to the alley, any hint of the gravitas that had been present fully painted over with the joking veneer he seemed to prefer.   

At the exit, he paused and called back to the Senju watching them, “Oh, will you be joining your brother and me for dinner?” 

Tobirama simply hummed in response and ducked back inside his window. Leaving Madara to stare after Hatake’s silver starlight hair as he disappeared around the corner.   

He could chase after him.  

Or he could bring Izuna dinner.  

He knew it was idiotic, impulsive, and every quality the elders disapproved of in a leader. But he believed him. He thought it might be the small part of him that had dreamed of peace as a child of war. Some tiny bit of himself that wanted to see the best in the world, and not the worst that he was regularly exposed to. He wanted to trust.  

So, just this once, he did. 

He hoped Izuna didn’t mind ramen. 

Notes:

I know I know, not quite as light as I promised. But hey, at least no one died in this chapter! (besides maybe Madara's dignity)
The first of many secrets are coming to light... I was really tempted to reveal this in a battle scene but I just couldn’t justify Madara waiting any longer to find out, so theres this!

Is Madara an idiot? Maybe. But Hashirama certainly isn't. And right on cue here's your daily reminder that Senju Hashirama is ~not~ an idiot. That tree boi built a village from the ground up, he's gotta have a more political brain then he gets credit for.
And I know Rome wasn't built in a day but i mean if they had the mokuton i bet they could have done it a lot faster, so Konoha (oh wait it isn't called that yet) is growing pretty fast.

Also my uni's spring break is unfortunately over, so I'm going to go to once (or twice if i have time) a week updates. See you next weekend!

(I realised my chapters are getting longer each time, is this an ok length? This is my first fic so uhhh I'm not sure)

Chapter 8: In which Kakashi regrets making himself so useful

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Kakashi wasn’t sure what he was doing watching the Uchiha clan leader sulk outside his brother's house. 

He’ll admit, it's not exactly his finest moment.  

The rain was pasting his hair to his head, cold drops running down his spine. He shifted uncomfortably on the roof, his toes going numb from crouching for so long. It was oddly reminiscent of his ANBU days. He only wished he still had the cloak. His hair had never gotten wet during an ANBU stakeout.  

Not that this was a stakeout.  

No, certainly not. This was more of a... observation of a target that had learned sensitive information. 

Kakashi sighed. It was definitely a stakeout.  

He’d been tailing Madara in his free time (of which he had very little) since he’d let slip about Obito’s eye. He had just told the Uchiha clan leader that he had a sharingan that wasn’t his.  

And he was still alive. Fully intact, both eyes and all. 

That warranted an investigation.  

He still enjoyed being alive, but he expected at least some reaction to his dramatics. Instead, Madara just stared at him with his dark, dark eyes as Kakashi left.  

Was he plotting something? Was he going to get all the other Uchiha and chase him out? Was he going to pin him to the wall again?  

(He wouldn't actually mind that last one) 

So far, his stakeout investigation hasn’t turned up anything. Besides the fact that Madara didn’t seem to like fish, and he didn’t seem to notice when he wasn’t wanted somewhere. 

The Uchiha had been leaning against the house door for four hours now. The sun had just set, and the village was lit in the soft grey of a rainy twilight.  

It had been the same pattern every day since their little encounter. Madara would bring Izuna food from a different stall, and without fail, the younger Uchiha wouldn’t open the door for him. The clan leader would wait outside the house for a few hours before getting angry, yelling at the wooden door, and stomping off to the training fields.  

This time was particularly pathetic, in Kakashi’s opinion. The rain had drenched the clan leader's hair and robes, visibly shrinking him. Madara also wasn’t yelling this go-round, instead he was spilt onto the wooden deck attached to the house, forehead pressed against the door with eyes clenched shut.  

Kakashi almost felt uncomfortable observing him. It felt much too personal.  

But he always was a nosy bastard.  

And he still had no idea what was happening in Madara’s pretty little head.  

An icy drop of rain splashed onto his eyelashes, irritating his already tired eye. It had been a very long few weeks helping to set up the village, and today was no exception. Tobirama had found him as soon as he’d walked into the building, demanding to go over the training guidelines the jounin had left on his desk the previous night. Kakashi didn’t think what he’d written was anything particularly revolutionary; it was just the basics they taught at the academy in his Konoha. Still, the Senju had been fascinated with the idea of standardised education for all shinobi hopefuls. Kakashi knew he should have left it with Hashirama instead. 

He shifted again on the roof to relieve some of the pressure on his sandaled feet, almost slipping on a wet tile. Perhaps it was time to call it a night, the Uchiha didn’t seem to be moving anytime soon and Kakashi didn’t think the man would be plotting his murder amidst all the brotherly angst. Maybe he should stop stalking investigating Madara altogether.  

His students would probably call it creepy at this point. He called it healthy paranoia. However, it had been the better part of four days and the Uchiha hadn’t confronted Kakashi about it, or talked to him at all, really.  

Perhaps he would just ignore the issue until Kakashi let down his guard and-  

He needed to stop worrying about this. The Uchiha would believe him, or he wouldn't 

He decided to turn away from the house, leaping across the roofs without a sound. The village was so close to familiar but wasn’t quite. He would land on a building as he had 100’s of times, and the next would be one he knew had been destroyed in the Kyuubi’s attack.  

It was disconcerting.  

His house was near the bottom of the cliff, as close to the gate as he could get. He stopped outside his simple wooden door to gaze at the grassy area at the bottom of the red-gold expanse of rock that overlooked the village.   

The area where the graveyard would stretch was empty.  

It didn’t sit well with Kakashi that it wouldn't stay so for very long. 

While this proto-Konoha certainly had a lot of uncertainty, there was also a lot of hope . A feeling Kakashi could almost smell in the air. It was in the children running around half-built buildings, Uchiwa fans and Senju crests alike emblazoned on their clothes. It was in how greedily Hashirama and Tobirama took up his suggestions for a more integrated society, like standardised training or mixing guard teams. It was in the sound of laughter drifting from the training fields.  

Kakashi felt almost buoyant. Even his Konoha had been weighted down by the gravity of the events that had befallen it. There just wasn’t that sense of dread here.  

He wasn’t keen to see it take root.  

His Konoha was wonderful; it was his home and he would protect it to his dying breath. But this... this was something special.  

He shook some of the rain out of his hair and ducked inside his (temporary) house. It was nothing much, one of the smaller ones to be built really. Just a futon, bathroom, low table, and a small kitchen. Kakashi shrugged out of his flak jacket; he hadn’t stopped wearing his bit of protection from home despite Hashirama's repeated insistence that ‘it was so ugly.’ 

(Ok, so the jacket wasn’t the most flattering, but it did its job)  

The rain pattered against the roof in an even rhythm and splashed down into puddles outside his open window. He liked the rain, despite how irritating the wet material of his mask was against his face. Fighting in the rain was hard but satisfying, and it had the added bonus of rinsing the blood off. He would much rather smell petrichor than copper. 

Walking over to the kitchen, he ruffled his hair into some semblance of order. He blinked at the meagre selection in the cupboard. Some rice, biscuits, a bottle of mysterious orange sauce, and a small hard apple some kid had thrown at him the previous day. What a superb selection. 

As he struggled to figure out what sad meal he could concoct from the contents of his kitchen, a loud banging sounded from his front door. 

“Kakashi-san! Are you in?” A slightly frantic voice called, fists pounding on his door again, causing the wood to rattle in its hinges.  

Kakashi grabbed a spare kunai from the table and padded over to the door to undo the locks. He opened it a small crack to see who it was before the door suddenly slammed inwards. In bustled a frazzled-looking Hashirama. His brown robes were in a bit of a disarray and his hair was pulled into a messy low bun, some strands frizzing away and down his back. Behind him, his brother stood on the stoop in full amour. Arms crossed over his chest and with a frown tugging his lips down. 

“Please, do come in,” Kakashi said flatly, gesturing dramatically to the Senju, one of whom was already dripping onto his floor. 

Hashirama smiled sheepishly, “Sorry to bother you so late, but there’s a bit of a situation that my brother and I don’t exactly know how to handle.” 

Tobirama interjects at this, staying in the open doorway, “I already told you how we should proceed, brother. It’s not my fault you simply disagree with my proposed solution.”  

Kakashi debated using a shunshin to get away; if he was careful he could probably make it through the window. Whatever had them so alarmed was nothing he wanted any part in.  

“There’s a delegation of Inuzkua at the gate.” The Senju leader explained with a vague gesture backwards towards where the gate was, the movement sending more water dripping onto Kakashi’s previously dry floor,  “They heard about the village and want to see what it’s all about! This is a good thing! The more clans that see peace is possible, the better!”  

The Inuzuka? This was yet another clan Kakashi couldn't recall interacting with the founders this early. How had he managed to change things so thoroughly with his mere presence? 

The younger Senju frowned at his brother, “Again, Hashirama, we’ve been over this. We can’t just be letting strange shinobi into the village when there's a very credible threat from the daimyo.”  

The clan leader looked at Kakashi with sparkling eyes, “But what if they just want peace? How can we in good conscience, turn them away? And what if they have news of what's happening out there? You have to admit we’ve been a bit cut off.” 

Tobirama huffed and rolled his eyes.  

Kakashi looked between the two brothers, “And why exactly have you come to me with this? I’m just a guest. Certainly you should be consulting the Uchiha?” 

Hashirama rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Well, Madara has been looking so tired lately. I didn’t want to stress him out more.” 

Tobirama hissed through his teeth, “Yet another thing I told you we should do, brother.” He narrowed his eyes at the brunette, seemingly near the end of his patience with Hashirama’s antics.  

Hashirama seemed to visibly deflate, arms coming to hang limply at his sides, “I know, Tobi, I just thought-” 

“Thought what,” The albino snapped, “If you and Madara are going to rule this village together, you both need to be aware of what's happening in the village.”  

Kakashi still wasn’t quite sure why they were at his house. He knew he’d been helping out a lot, but he was under no illusions that they actually trusted him. He would very happily rather stay out of these weird incongruent moments, he didn’t want his presence to screw up anything more than it already had.  

(Not that he felt any guilt about it, nope not at all, that icy ball of dread in his chest about possibly erasing all those he’d ever loved did not exist) 

Hashirama straightened, “Fine. We’ll go to Madara, but don’t get mad at me when he yells at us.” 

Kakashi grimaced. Should he tell them that the Uchiha definitely wasn’t in the state to be receiving visitors? 

He almost stabbed Hashirama with the kunai he still held as the Senju grabbed his wrist and started rapidly dragging him out of the house.  

“Ah, Hashirama-sama, I need to grab my gear.” He tugged slightly on his wrist. 

The Senju simply grinned at him and continued pulling him off the stoop past Tobirama, “It’s about time you took off the hideous green thing, plus we’re just going down the road. What’s the harm?”  

Kakashi pulled his wrist out of the Senju’s almost painfully tight grip but didn’t turn back to the house. The sooner he got this over with, the better. Hopefully, he could just stay quiet and return to the house after the clan leaders had decided, though he still felt much more vulnerable without the flak jacket protecting his squishy bits. 

Followed by Tobirama, they made their way rapidly to the Uchiha buildings, the rain quickly returning Kakashi’s hair to the sorry state it had been before. He flicked a clump of hair out of his eye and sighed, maybe it was time for a haircut.  

Twilight had faded by now, and the village was eerie in the stormy darkness. The rain clouds had blocked out any light from the moon and it was almost pitch black. The only light coming from a small seal Tobirama had wrapped around his wrist. The seal flickered with green light, casting a weak aura around the group and highlighting the drops of water falling from the sky. Kakashi wondered just how much about sealing the Senju knew.  

They walked in silence up to the Uchiha buildings, Hashirama slightly bouncing as he walked, restraining the energy that was obviously threatening to overtake him. Kakashi fingered the kunai he was still holding, he felt out of place in just his uniform blacks beside the two Senju in their formal robes and armour.  

Hashirama pauses in the street, turning to Tobirama with a raised eyebrow, “Can you sense him?” 

“Of course I can. It’s rare to encounter such abrasive chakra. It’s very easy to sense.” The pale Senju replied dryly. He gestured to a house set back from the path a little way, which Kakashi knew belonged to Izuna. He guessed Madara still hadn’t moved then. 

Hashirama strode across the path and up the small pathway leading to the traditionally styled wooden house. He stopped abruptly as the entryway came into view, “Madara?” 

Madara sat up violently. Seeing the Senju, he scrambled to get his legs underneath him and awkwardly stood, leaning slightly against the doorway.  

“What are you-” His voice came out painfully scratchy and he cleared his throat, “What are you doing here, Hashirama?” 

Hashirama was studying his friend with slightly widened eyes, taking in the Uchiha’s ridiculously tangled mane of hair and the slight red that rimmed his hooded eyes. 

“Ah, Madara, are you alright?” He said tentatively. 

The Uchiha scowled at him, “Of course, I’m fine. What do you want.” He caught sight of Kakashi and Tobirama standing slightly behind and his scowl grew deeper.  

Hashirama sent another doubtful look at Madara but outlined the situation to him anyway. As the Senju continued explaining why they should welcome the Inuzuka, his fists seemed to steam.  

As Hashirama finished, Madara spat through his teeth, “Why would we let more strange shinobi into the village? The last time we did that, we ended up with him .” He looked pointedly at Kakashi.  

Kakashi pouted, “Aww, Madara-chan, am I that bad?” He fluttered his eyelashes at the Uchiha teasingly, only for the man to turn away with a huff.  

Hashirama frowned at the Uchiha, “Kakashi-san has been an asset to this village. Who’s to say the Inuzuka won’t be as well?” 

Tobirama chimed in, pale hair tinged green by the light of the seal, “I hate that I have to say this, but you already know I agree with the angry one. One stranger we can keep an eye on, a whole group is another matter.”  

Kakashi really didn’t want to be here while they discussed the merits of trusting strangers. He shifted slightly, water running between the toes of his sandaled feet, “Perhaps we could go inside?”  

Madara turned his dark eyes onto him, narrowing slightly in confusion at him, “Where’s your ugly vest?”  

Hashirama crowed in victory, “I told you, Kakashi-san, even Madara thinks it’s ugly!” 

The Uchiha defensively crossed his arms over his chest, “Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

The brunette chuckled nervously, “Ah ha, nothing ‘Dara, it's just your hair is a bit...” he trailed off. 

Madara patted his hair self-consciously and his scowl faded to a more melancholic frown, “We can go to my house, I suppose.” He pushed off the wall of Izuna’s house and made his way to the neighbouring house, a slightly larger house with a porch that wrapped around the side.  

Kakashi tucked his kunai into his pants pocket and shook out his hair yet again before entering after Madara and the Senju. The Uchiha had lit a gas lamp and was sitting by the table, wet hair creating a small puddle on the floor around him.  

Kakashi tried very hard not to think about how much the man looked like a drowned cat. 

He joined the others at the table, shifting uncomfortably in his sodden clothing, gods what he’d have given for an ANBU cloak this evening. He pulled his shirt away from his skin, trying to ease the discomfort of the fabric. He grimaced as the uniform fell back against his skin, clinging tightly to his torso when he let go. Kakashi noted with interest that a certain pair of Uchiha dark eyes were staring at him. 

Hmm, perhaps it wasn’t the end of the world that he didn’t have his vest to cover up with. 

Hashirama leaned forward onto the table, resting his head in a cupped hand, “I think we should let them in. They came looking for peace. Why would we give them anything but?” 

Tobirama gave a long suffering sigh, “We don’t know that we can trust their intentions. They haven't told us how they heard about the village. And we also don’t know their allegiances. They could be connected to the Hyuuga.” 

Madara nodded, tearing eyes away from Kakashi to focus on the pale Senju, “We still don’t know what the daimyo plans to do with us. This could be part of the plan.” 

Hashirama chewed on his lip, “But what if they really do just want to join us? I wouldn’t feel right turning them away.” 

Madara exhaled harshly, “Hashirama, your idealism helped us build this place, but it could also destroy it. We can’t assume the best in everyone that appears on our door.” His eyes flickered back to Kakashi at this last statement. 

“What do you think Kakashi-san? I can’t help but notice you’ve avoided having an opinion entirely on this matter.” Tobriama enquired, having caught the slight eye movement. 

Dammit. The jounin had really hoped they wouldn’t make him talk.  

He hummed slightly, “Ah, well, I think trying to see the good in people is admirable. However, in my experience, there just isn’t much good to see.” 

He knew how many bad intentions people could hide.  

Hashirama dropped his head onto the table, mumbling his answer against the wood, “I just don’t want to turn away those that could share in our peace... Isn’t that why we built this place?” 

Madara frowned again. The expression had been a bit of a default for the Uchiha in the time Kakashi had known him, “You have to know not everyone will embrace peace,” he grimaced, “like my brother. We must be aware that there are still credible threats against us. We can’t get too comfortable before those threats are dealt with.” 

Tobirama nodded his agreement, “The angry one has good points.” 

Madara bristled, “If you don’t stop calling me that you’ll find out exactly how angry I can be.” 

Kakashi tilted his head, studying the Uchiha. Perhaps he was more of a wet hedgehog than a cat... the hair certainly was spiky enough.  

“Oi, Hatake, what are you staring at?” Barked the not-a-hedgehog, “If you have something to say, then say it.”  

He really shouldn't enjoy flustering the man, but the small flush that spread across pale, high cheekbones was much too tempting, “Mah, It’s nothing, Madara-chan, just wondering how you feel about your other nicknames.” 

“You!”  

Hashirama cut off his friends' growl with a hand on the Uchiha’s wet shoulder, “It's getting late. Why don’t we all go to bed and check on the Inuzuka in the morning? You can talk to them yourself and assess their intentions.” 

Madara snapped his head back to look sideways at the Senju, “What makes you think talking to them will accomplish anything. If there’s anything we’ve learned from this ”, he gestured to Kakashi, “it's that we don’t exactly have a track record of attracting truthfulness.” 

Kakashi crinkled his eye at him, “Ah, I told you the truth eventually, didn’t I?”  

The Uchiha sent him a venomous glare, “I still have questions for you.”  

He leaned forward onto his hands, blinking innocently at the angry shinobi, “I’m at your disposal, Madara-chan.” 

All he got in return was a noise of frustration from Madara and an eye roll from Tobirama.  

He smiled beneath his mask. At least if he had to live through history, he could have some fun with it. 

Madara all but shoved the Senju out of his house, muttering about ‘altruistic idiots’ and ‘not that angry’.  

Kakashi made for the door as well, not wanting to stretch the Uchiha’s tenuous hospitality.  

“Hatake.” A quiet voice stopped him as he reached the doorway, the Senju already slipping away down the path towards their section of the village. 

He felt the weight of his kunai in his pocket, at least he wasn’t completely defenseless, “Yes, Madara-chan?”  

The Uchiha was staring at the ground between Kakashi’s feet, not meeting his gaze, “Who-” He cleared his throat, “Whose was it?”  

Ah.  

“A friend.” He settled on, no need to give more details unless prompted.  

Madara’s red-ringed eyes flickered up, “You say it was a gift. But no Uchiha I know would give their eyes to an outsider. They are sacred to our clan.” 

“I know.” He replied, fiddling with the kunai, “It wasn’t someone you would have known.”  

This made the Uchiha raise his head fully, meeting Kakashi’s one eye with both of his, “A bastard?”  

Kakashi twitched at the thought of Obito being called a bastard. He didn't want to dishonour his friend, but denying it would just raise more questions. He gave a noncommittal hum in response and inclined his head slightly. Let the Uchiha make of that what he will.  

Madara blinked at him twice before sighing, “You're an evasive son of bitch, you know that right?” 

Kakashi smirked sardonically, a small twist of his lips visible through his mask, “Well, I’ve been called a lot worse.”  

Madara pushed his hair out of his face, still dripping onto the floor, “Get out of my house, Hatake.” 

He pouted, “You were the one that wanted some time alone-” 

“Out!” 

The following day found him strolling towards the edge of the village beside the clan founders. What a position he had found himself in...

Kakashi heard their guests before the gate even came into view. The Inuzuka were many things, but quiet was not one of them. Deep laughter and a few high barks rang from around the corner as he followed the Senju brothers. Madara stomped beside him, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. 

Tobirama rubbed his temple, “Gods, even their chakra is loud.” 

“They smell loud, too.” Kakashi lamented. Sometimes he cursed his senses. These Inuzuka had even more of a presence than the ones he knew. They smelled of the forest, mud, and wet dog. It wasn’t a pleasant combination for Kakashi’s sensitive nose.  

The rain had stopped at some point in the night, and the sun was beginning to dry the land slowly. In the pale light of the morning, however, there were still quite a few puddles in the muddy path that Kakashi had to skate around. Madara had splashed right through them, a smug glint in his eyes as specks of mud splattered onto Tobirama’s pristine blue armour.  

They reached the gate and were greeted by the sight of a surprisingly large delegation of Inuzuka. A wild-haired kunoichi stood at the head of them, light brown curls mirrored in the large sheepdog at her side. She grinned widely at seeing Tobirama and waved a hand, the large amount of bangles around her wrist clanging together in a discordant symphony.   

“Oi! Senju-sama!” She called cheerfully, her canine partner barking a greeting as well.  

“Inuzuka-sama!” Hashirama grinned, “I hope the rain wasn’t too much of a bother.” 

She waved him off with a laugh, “Oh, it's nothing. We’re a hardy clan. Didn’t I tell you to call me Rika? Inuzuka-sama reminds me of my mother.” She mimes gagging. 

“Then I insist you call me Hashirama,” He amended, nodding at the gate guards to let them out. 

Passing through the gate, Kakashi straightened his flak jacket. The others may mock its ah... more utilitarian style but he would not meet potential hostiles without his protection. After Tobirama introduced himself, Kakashi refrained from saying his name, instead offering a cheery wave to the Inuzuka and their canine partners. Madara simply crossed his arms and glowered at them. 

Rika showed them to the centre of their makeshift campsite, taking a seat and inviting the others to join her. As Madara and the Senju joined her, Kakashi stood a little behind his (could he call them allies at this point?) comrades, leaning against a tree. He was pretty good at blending into the background and aimed to put that skill to good use, especially when surrounded by potential threats. He didn’t want them to be caught off guard. 

He zoned out as Hashirama and Rika exchanged excited snippets of conversation with the occasional monotone input from Tobirama and the even rarer grunt from Madara. He paid attention to the conversation with half of his attention and used the other half to extend his senses outward, using some chakra enhancement, scanning the area for any threats.  

The sounds of the forest were audible over the whispers of conversation from the rest of the Inuzuka throughout the makeshift campsite amidst the trees—songbirds chirping in the daylight and the rustle of leaves in the light breeze. Kakashi could smell not only the slightly overwhelming scent of the Inuzuka but also the wood and ink scent of the Senju and the smoke and the almost velvety spice characteristic of Madara. The village was tucked away behind the recently completed border fence, hidden in the glade of the forest. From beyond the wall, Kakashi could smell the faint whiffs of food beginning to be cooked in the stalls that had started to line its streets. 

The talks with the Inuzuka lasted the better part of the morning, and the sun was almost directly overhead when Kakashi realised the conversation had stopped, and he brought his attention back to the campsite. 

He blinked back to himself to be greeted with the sight of Madara standing directly in front of him. The Uchiha seemed to be studying him with a furrowed brow.  

He cocked his own brow at the man in question, tilting his head slightly to show he was aware.  

Madara simply huffed out a breath, grabbed his forearm and tugged him back towards the wall, “Come on, the Senju went back already with the dog-girl.” 

Uchiha Madara was pulling him around like a child, Kakashi thought incredulously as he was dragged somewhat bodily back into the village, “So the Inuzuka are coming into the village?” 

Madara’s lips twisted down, “Just the main dog for now, against my better judgement. Hashirama is as stubborn as an ass when he wants to be. He wants to continue talking and show her a little of the village.” 

“Do you not like the Inuzuka? They seem perfectly pleasant.”  

He grimaces, “That’s precisely part of the problem; they're so hyper and cheerful. It’s like a whole clan of Hashirama’s. Nobody can be that full of energy. They have to be hiding something.” He pauses, “And I don’t like dogs.”  

Kakashi added another mental point in the cat column of the cat vs. hedgehog chart as he continued to be pulled through the village. A few nin openly stared at where Madara’s hand gripped him, one even keeping her widened eyes on them as she walked past, smacking into a building with a yelp. One brave shinobi mouthed ‘Do you need help?’ at him, to which he simply crinkled his eye and waved. 

“Ah, Madara-chan, where are we going?” He prodded. He wasn’t exactly opposed to the Uchiha’s tight grip, but he did want to know where exactly he was being led.  

Madara looked sideways at him and then down at his hand before letting go of Kakashi’s wrist as if it burned. Kind of ironic when Kakashi thought about the Uchiha’s signature jutsu. 

“To the administration hut, the dog-girl said she had some sort of message she didn’t want to be read in the open.”  

Kakashi sighed. He wasn’t a part of the village leadership, so why on earth were they including him in all of this? The more he was involved he was, the more the timeline seemed to be screwed up. He was only here to get things back on track. Not to become so entrenched in early village politics. 

They entered the administration tower and made their way to the conference room they’d been using most frequently.  

The Inuzuka was sitting in a chair with her feet thrown up onto the table under the disapproving gaze of Tobirama standing to the side. Hashirama was examining a rolled out scroll with a wavering frown. 

Madara took one look at his friend and bit out a groan, rubbing a hand over his face, “What is it, Hashirama?” 

The Senju looked up with a severe gaze, eyes flickering to Kakashi and then back down to the scroll, “Rika-sama brought information that the daimyo appears to be mobilising troops. They could be here in about a week's time.” 

Kakashi felt a sinking feeling in his chest. It looked like the empty field outside his house would become occupied a little sooner than he’d hoped. 

Notes:

Poor Kakashi really got dragged all over town in this one didn't he?

I still can't decide if I like Madara the cat better or Madara the hedgehog.

Also I know this one is a few days late, uni is really putting me through the ringer at the moment. On that note I can't exactly promise consistency for the next 3 weeks... BUT after that updates should be a lot quicker and a lot more consistent!

I'm VERY excited for the next chapter though, not gonna spoil anything but our lads are gonna bond a bit. (It's about time!)

Chapter 9: In which allies are needed

Notes:

Ok holy shit this got away from me. It got wayy too long, so I split it into two.

This is the first half and I'll post the second later today.

This one is a bit more talky, and the next one has that bonding I promised.

Well as close to bonding as this two emotionally repressed murder babies get. 🙃

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“That’s too many Tobirama!” Hashirama ran a slightly trembling hand through messy hair, the other resting on the unrolled scroll on the table.

“Each of us could take hundreds of civilians, Hashirama,” Tobirama growled back, hands flat on the table across from his brother.  

Ten thousand men, Tobi, ten thousand!” Hashirama emphasised, shaking his head in despair, “Where did he even get ten thousand people...” 

Madara chewed the inside of his cheek. Ten thousand was a lot, even if they were all civilians, but he knew the Hyuuga would likely be with them. Stupid milky-eyed fuckers made everything more complicated.  

Tobirama turned sharp red eyes on the Inuzuka still lounging at the table, “Where did you get this?”  

Rika grinned at the tense albino, “Oh, we gathered it ourselves, Senju-sama. Don’t ya know that the Inuzuka are excellent trackers?” 

Kakashi cleared his throat from behind Madara, leaning against the wall by the door, “You're also known for not being exceptionally stealthy, what if they noticed you and followed you here?” 

Tobirama cursed under his breath, “We should set a wide perimeter patrol. I can’t sense anything, but I couldn’t sense the Hyuuga last time either.” 

They’d been discussing the information in the scroll for a few hours now, and Madara was this close to leaving the room. Hashirama just kept mumbling about the number of troops while holding his head in his hands. Tobirama was getting increasingly irritated with him, though Madara could see a slight glint of worry in the younger man’s wine-coloured eyes. The Inuzuka hadn’t moved from her reclined position in the chair, seemingly much too at ease for the bombshell information she had brought them.  

Madara was trying his best to keep calm, but it felt like a snake was slowly tightening around his stomach. He felt tense and fidgety, and... was he nervous?  

He didn’t get nervous.  

Not before a battle.  

He was Uchiha Madara, the Red-Eyed Menace, and there was no way he was nervous about a battle against some civilian soldiers. He was steadfast, unflappable- 

“Madara?”  

He definitely did not jump into the air as Hashirama called his name.  

He fixed the Senju with a poisonous glare, “What, Hashirama?”  

His friend looked at him with big, concerned eyes, “I called your name like three times...”  

“I heard you.” He hissed defensively, “I just chose not to respond unless you use my title.”  

Tobirama snorted.  

Hashirama tilted his head and his lips twitched up at the corners, “Ah, apologies, oh grand Uchiha-sama, could this humble one enquire on your thoughts on the matter? The glorious Uchiha-sama has been uncharacteristically quiet on the matter.” 

Madara grimaced, “Please never do that again.” 

“Ah, he was just doing what you asked him, Uchiha-sama”, Kakashi’s voice came from behind him, almost purring the last word.  

Madara glanced back at him sharply, the way the man said his name made him feel strange. What was Hatake’s deal? 

“Your thoughts, Uchiha?” Tobirama prompted, crossing his arms and looking at Madara with a raised brow. 

He scowled at the albino, “My thoughts, Senju , are that we should learn more about this force. We need to know how many shinobi are with them and when they’ll actually be here. We also need to start running drills between the Uchiha and Senju to get them a little more used to working in tandem. No need for any Senju to get roasted by getting in the way of our fireballs.”  

Hashirama blinked up at him from the table before his big brown eyes glistened, “Madara!” He flung himself across the table with open arms towards the Uchiha.  

Madara sidestepped his friend's hug attack, “It’s nothing special. I’m sure you mentioned all of this already.”  

Tobirama looked at him with considering eyes, “You showed concern for Senju clan members.”  

The Uchiha looked down slightly, letting his hair fall forward to cover his face a bit more, “It’s not like I want them to get hurt. You forget that this village was my dream, too.” 

Hashirama gripped his shoulders, forcing him to look into still-wet eyes, “I never forgot my friend, but it’s nice to hear out loud.”  

Madara muttered a ‘whatever’, shook off the Senju's warm hands, and stood against the wall behind the Inuzuka’s massive sheepdog. Maybe the mutt would keep touchy-feely Senju away from him.  

As Madara approached, the dog wagged its tail, causing him to wrinkle his nose in distaste. He didn’t like dogs.  

They made him sneeze.  

Izuna loved them. He always used to find strays in villages and the capital whenever they visited and try to sneak them back to the Uchiha compound. Unfortunately for him, his older brother was quite allergic, and the dogs didn’t get close before Madara’s sneezing gave them away. 

Izuna had tried it way too many times for Madara to be even remotely fond of the hairy fleabags.  

The dog blinked sleepily at him from his spot on the floor beside the Inuzuka.  

Madara sniffed.  

“I agree about the scouting patrol,” Hashirama said after a moment, eyes finally dry and a serious expression back on his face, “We need more details.”  

Tobirama nodded his agreement, “We need to assume a more intense training regiment as well. I can’t believe I’m saying this yet again, but I agree with the angry one.” 

Madara glowered at him from the corner. He really wished the pale Senju would stop calling him that. He wasn’t that angry, dammit! 

Hatake chimed in again, “The question is, assuming the worst, do we have enough soldiers to go against a ten thousand-man army that has a sizable shinobi presence?” 

Hashirama grimaced, “No.”  

Tobirama glanced down and to the side with a scowl, “No.” 

Kakashi hummed, “Then we need allies.” 

Hashirama slumped back into his chair and stared again at the scroll, “Yeah. I think you're right.” 

“And who are we supposed to ask for help? What clan is voluntarily going to go to war for a village they know nothing about?” Tobirama shot back. 

“Well, we’ll help!” The Inuzuka pointed out, before a slightly sly grin stole across her face, “For a price, of course.”  

The albino turned to raise both his brows at his brother as if to say, ‘see?’   

Madara thought of old rusty weapons sitting in new storage sheds, “We don’t exactly have the money to hire any mercenaries masquerading as legitimate shinobi either.”  

“Hey!” The Inuzuka pouted, “We are real shinobi. We just happen to be mercenaries as well.”  

Hashirama looked to Madara, then to Kakashi, “Kakashi-san, do you think the Hatake would help us?” 

The silver-haired man rubbed the back of his neck, “Ah, well, as I said, I came from a very distant branch, I’m not sure they would even know little ole me.”  

Madara studied him for a moment. Was he actually telling the truth? Or did he have to leave because of that eye? Or maybe they gave it to him and sent him to infiltrate the clan-  

Madara stopped himself.  

He reminded himself of his decision to trust. It was more difficult than he thought, he rarely had to decide whether to trust someone or not. Usually he just did

(or more often not

Tobirama cleared his throat, “What about the Uzumaki?”  

Kakashi raised a single silver brow at him, “Really? I thought we’d been over this.” 

A cross expression took up residence on the albino's sharp features, making the red slashes across his cheeks look harsher than they usually did, “Yes, well, we established that you weren’t a diplomat, but you knew enough to claim them as a cover. You know who they are. Do you know enough to convince them to help us?” 

Hashirama leaned forward on the desk in anticipation. 

Kakashi shifted against the wall, hand making an aborted movement to his pocket, as if searching for something to take attention away from him, “I mean, I don’t really know much-”   

He froze.  

“I know something. A foxy little secret if you will.” He admitted with a wry tilt of his head, “I’m not sure it’ll be enough, though.” 

“Blackmail?” Hashirama frowned, “I don’t want to blackmail allies. Why would they fight to their full capacity?”  

“It wouldn't be blackmail ,” Kakashi demurred, “More like letting them know I know something they don’t want other people to know and suggesting they help us with our problem if they don’t want those other people to know!” 

Madara blinked incredulously at the silver-haired man, “That's the definition of blackmail Hatake.” 

He blinked innocently back at Madara, “Ah, is it? I only went to school for one year, you know. I’m sure the great Uchiha-sama knows better than me.” 

The great Uchiha-sama bristled. Why was Hatake so irritating?   

“I don’t want to blackmail them. But the Uzumaki would make formidable allies. I’ve heard they have a village-like set-up in the Land of Whirlpools with a few smaller shinobi families and civilians. Perhaps they will be sympathetic.” Hashirama stated firmly, adamant about not mistreating possible allies. 

Tobirama rubbed his chin in contemplation, “The daimyo is after their sealing knowledge. That's what his brother said anyway. Wouldn't it be in their best interest to defeat the daimyo to protect what they know?”  

The Senju clan leader hummed in agreement, “That may just be a good selling point, Tobi! I think the Uzumaki may be our best bet to be honest. The other clans are ah,” he hesitated, “less likely.” 

Madara found himself nodding in agreement. He may not have the political know-how of his brother. Still, even he knew the Nara, Yamanaka, and Akimichi weren’t exactly likely to help them after the literal army they led to their doorstep. There was always the Aburame, but he didn’t even really want to bring them up. They weren’t exactly fond of the Uchiha. 

The last time they met with the bug users, a few years ago, Izuna had screeched like a child at the sight of the holes the bugs stayed in within the user's skin.  

They hadn’t been amused.  

There were also the Shimura and Sarutobi clans, Madara believed both had some sort of link to the Senju. He brought up their names to the Senju.  

“I’ve sent them a correspondence, but they’re both small clans. I’m not sure how much help they’ll be.” Hashirama admitted, “I think the Uzumaki are our only real hope for substantial support.” 

“We need to send someone then. It's a two-day journey, a few shinobi can get there and back with help within the week.” Tobirama decided, looking to Hashirama for confirmation.  

“Agreed.” Hashirama looked up with the same oddly serious expression Madara had seen on him so often recently, “Madara?” 

Huh.  

“Huh?” He replied, trying to summon as much dignity as he could in his shock, “What about me?” 

Hashirama hid a small snort of laughter behind a hand, “You, Madara, you should go to the Uzumaki.” 

He must be joking.  

“Hashirama, this no time for one of your stupid pranks-” 

“No, he’s right.” Tobirama added, with a slightly curled-up lip, “Much as I hate to admit it, all of our hopes lie in Uchiha Madara’s negotiating skills.” 

Madara crossed his arms, “What in the seven hells are you talking about, Senju? I’m the last person you should choose for this mission. I’m fully aware of my strengths; diplomacy is not one of them.”  

The Inuzuka nods rapidly in agreement before freezing and smiling sheepishly at Madara's poisonous glare. 

Hashirama smiled weakly at him, “I’m well aware of your ah, weakness in this area, and that you're more likely to set someone on fire than talk to them, that you may be less inclined to listen-” 

‘Yes, yes, ok, get to your point, Hashirama.” He gestured impatiently. Just because he was aware of his shortcomings didn’t mean he wanted to hear them listed out loud. 

“Madara.” Hashirama looked him straight in the eye, “Tobirama is needed here to organise our defences. He’s the best at it, and the people will listen to his instructions. I am needed here because I am the strongest shinobi we have, I cannot leave the village undefended, I can use the very forest surrounding us to our defence, no one else can fill my shoes. And do you really see Izuna being willing to negotiate on our behalf at the moment?” 

Madara wilted slightly. His brother still wasn’t talking to him.  

He missed him.  

He sighed deeply, “I hope you know what you’re asking me to do. If you send me, we have an equal chance of making lifelong enemies.”  

Oh, he did not like the glint that just appeared in Hashirama’s eyes. 

“Well, that’s why you’ll take Kakashi-san with you!” 

Madara knew his own expression was pretty telling of his thoughts on the notion, but he was pleasantly surprised to see Kakashi looked equally as affected by the Senju’s words. 

The man's silver brow had risen almost to meet his hairline, and his gray eye was wide with surprise.  

“Why.” Madara growled, “How is his presence supposed to make me more amenable to diplomacy!” 

Hashirama laughed nervously, “Well, think of it as a plan b!” 

Kakashi had quickly recovered his composure, and his face regained its lazy facade, “Plan b as in blackmail?” 

“No!” Hashirama exclaimed, “No blackmail! I thought we already explicitly said no blackmail!”  

The silver-haired nin pouted.  

“Hashirama, are you sure this is a good idea? We could just send Touka with him instead?” Tobirama cautioned, glancing between Kakashi and the Uchiha glaring at him. 

“It's great!” The older Senju beamed, “They can work out their differences and,” Hashirama’s smile turned up in one corner slyly, “we know Kakashi-san can manipulate his way into situations; let him do it for us rather than to us this time.” 

Kakashi simply crinkled his eyes into a cheery smile and hummed at the accusation.  

Madara glowered at them all. He didn’t want to do this in the first place, let alone with the most frustrating man he’d met. 

His nose tickled. He wanted to leave this room before this blasted dog made him set the room on fire with a sneeze. 

“Fine. We’ll go to the Uzumaki, I assume we should leave as soon as possible?” He grumbled. As much as he hated it, Hashirama’s logic was sound with everything except stupid Hatake. It made sense for him to go. Both the Senju were essential to the continued defence of the village.  

He was important, but not vital.  

If Hatake coming with him was what was necessary, then he would suck it up and do his utmost not to gut the man. 

Hashirama nodded, “You can get there in about two days, allow two days for negotiations, and return the next two, getting back with a day to spare. It’s pushing it, but I think it’s our best option.”  

Madara sighed. He hadn't been getting much sleep. Pushing his pace to get all the way to the land of whirlpools and back so quickly may start to eat into his chakra reserves. 

“I’ll go pack my shit. Meet me at the gate in 20 minutes, Hatake.” He pushed off the wall and started towards the door. 

“Madara,” Hashirama called after him, “Please make this happen.” 

Madara blinked tired eyes back at his friend, “I’ll do my best, Hashirama, I don’t want to see this end either.”  

The Senju smiled gently at him and waved him off. 

He turned his gaze to his apparent mission partner with a raised brow, “Still here? I thought I said gate in 19 minutes.” 

Kakashi stifled a chortle behind his mask, “Of course... Madara-taichou.” 

Taichou? Why was the idiot calling him captain? Madara supposed it was an upgrade from the dreaded chan, however. 

“Go pack, Hatake.”  

The silver-haired shinobi gave him an over-exaggerated salute and sauntered through the door ahead of him. 

Madara hurried back to his house, packing a small rucksack with extra clothes and knives. He swung his long black mantle from its hook by his door over his shoulders. He couldn't bring his heavy armour on such a quick-paced journey but couldn't be without any finery for a diplomatic mission. With its large Uchiwa emblem emblazoned on the back, the mantle was a happy medium. Tucking a few extra kunai into the pouch at his waist, he exited his house.  

He glanced across the way to his brother's house, he might as well try one last time before he left.  

He walked across and knocked on the door.  

As was typical, he got no response. 

He leaned forward to press his forehead against the cool wood, “Hey, Izuna. The Inuzuka are just as bad as I feared. You’d love them. Every single one of them has a dog. I was stifling a sneeze the entire meeting, and I’m sure if you were there, you would have mocked me relentlessly.”  

He paused to trace the approximate shape of the Inuzuka clan head’s sheepdog on the door, “I’m going to be away for a few days. We think we could be attacked, and... we need allies. So I’m going to the Land of Whirlpools to meet the Uzumaki. For some reason, Hashirama trusted me to make them help us. Me!” He huffed out a laugh.  

“You would be much better at this than I would.” He added with a bit more melancholy, “I miss you, Izuna.” 

Silence from the small shadow underneath the door, marking his brother's presence.  

He sighed again before turning to head to the gate.  

“Wait.” 

He froze at the sound of his brother's voice, spinning around to face the door again, mantle whirling around him in a circle at the abrupt motion. 

“The Uzumaki would make formidable allies, they are quick to anger but fiercely loyal. Their seals are unparalleled, and their kenjutsu is nothing to laugh at either.”  

Madara stared breathlessly at the door, “‘Zuna...” 

A hitched breath came from behind the door, “Be careful, brother. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”  

Madara staggered back towards the hut only to see the shadow disappear from under the door. 

He felt an involuntary grin tug his lips up. Izuna had spoken to him! 

Yes, it wasn’t quite a conversation, and he hadn’t opened the door, but it was progress!  

His brother was worried about him, and Madara would take that over anything any day. 

He made his way towards the town gate with a slight spring in his step that had those he passed in the streets doing a slight double take at the uncharacteristic exuberance the Uchiha was expressing. 

He had Izuna’s blessing for this trip at least, if nothing else; this had to go well now.  

He nodded to the guards at the gate and leaned against a fence post to wait for his partner. 

He waited.  

And waited. 

And waited until he was dead certain the 20 minutes had come and gone more than twice over. His good mood from his brother had long since faded in irritation at Hatake’s un-punctual behaviour.  

He had a scowl firmly fixed on his face by the time Kakashi strolled up to the gate with nothing but that ugly vest he always wore and a slightly longer-than-usual knife strapped to his thigh. 

“You’re late!” He snarled, tapping his foot impatiently against the forest floor. 

“Ah, sorry, Madara-taichou, there was this cat that crossed my path, and I just had to help it find its way home.” 

Madara rolled his eyes, grabbed the other shinobi by the wrist and started marching towards the treeline, “Come on, we have to make up for lost time.”  

“You know, if you keep grabbing me like this, I might actually start thinking you want me on this mission.” Kakashi quipped, letting himself be pulled alongside Madara. 

“I-” Madara sputtered, “You are so annoying!  Why would I want you on any mission with me!”  

He released his wrist with a noise of disgust as they reached the trees, “I hope you can keep up, Hatake. We have to move fast.”  

To his surprise, Kakashi simply chuckled in response, “I think the real question is can you keep up with me.” 

Madara's hair blew back from his face slightly as Kakashi kicked off the ground with a rush of air, propelling him up and up into the treetops.  

Well, if he wanted to play it like that, Madara would show him speed! 

Notes:

oop they do be about to go on a road trip!

Also, Izuna is alive!! Dont worry, I have ~plans~ for him.

So as I said, this one got away from me so I'm splitting it into two chapters, the next one is also in Madara POV so keep an eye out for that later today.

Also the vote is as of now
Team cat-1
Team hedgehog-2
Team both/weird amalgamation of the two-2

______

Hashirama: Kakashi you cant blackmail potential allies °Д°
Kakashi: Why not
Hashirama: Kakashi no!
Kakashi: Kakashi yes!

Madara: You want me to what now
Hashirama: Not murder potential allies?
Madara: But you know thats like my whole thing right??
Hashirama: but can you like not? ^-^
Madara: fine. buT IM NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT

Chapter 10: In which Madara begins to not dread this road trip

Notes:

Part two of the monstrously long chapter I wrote, as promised!

This is the second part i've posted today, AO3 can be weird about that sometimes, so make sure you've read the previous chapter before reading this one!

This is still Madara POV, so messing up the perfect alternating POV I had going but eh... oops?

I hope you enjoy!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Madara did not show him speed.

Kakashi was fast . It was like he was immensely used to traversing treetops, it was uncanny how good the other shinobi was at it. Madara found his breathing slightly laboured as he pushed himself to keep up. They’d been travelling for a few hours and hadn’t broken out of the treetops once. The silence they travelled in for the most part was broken by the occasional muffled curse as Madara’s boots occasionally slipped on a branch, he supposed this may be why so many shinobi preferred sandals. 

They were moving through the treetops along the top of a long, steep hill leading down to a road along a ravine, he hadn't spotted any travellers yet but he was keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of advance scouts from the supposed army marching towards them.  

He had to squint to see the bottom of the hill, which was slightly concerning. He had noticed his eyesight was... to put it bluntly, fading.  

It was well known that among the Uchiha the sharingan was a blessing and a curse. And the ones among the clan who were the most blessed were also the most cursed. The evolved form of the sharingan, the mangekyou, caused you to slowly go blind the more you used it.  

Madara had used his mangekyou a lot on the battlefield.  

He couldn't always see that clearly. 

Izuna knew about Madara's eyes, and suffered from a reduced field of vision as well, though not to the degree the clan leader did. Madara had done what he could to prevent his brother from using his mangekyou too much, he would rather die than see his brother go blind. 

It had gotten to the point of migraines when he used his mangekyou for too long, and he had to squint to see long distances and read missives with small handwriting.  

He was managing though, his sharingan didn’t cause him pain at least, and it still made his vision as perfect as ever. 

He knew it would only get worse though, and he didn’t want to think what would happen to a blind Uchiha.  

So he pretended it wasn’t happening and tried to limit his mangekyou use as much as possible. He hoped after peace was secured for the village that he could spend some time trying to save his sight. But if that was what it took to protect his tentative home, then that was what he would do. 

As he bounced from branch to branch, the silence of their journey started to eat at him. Maybe he should try and say something. He glanced up at the sky to see picture-perfect wisps of clouds floating past through the canopy.  

“Pretty clouds.” He remarked. 

Kakashi glanced at the sky and then back to Madara, “Yeah, fluffy.”  

Madara blinked back at him before scowling and turning his attention back to squinting down at the road. If Kakashi didn’t want to talk that was fine. 

Suddenly he caught sight of a blur of colour at the bottom of the ravine, he turned to hiss to Hatake but it seemed the man had already spotted it. A hand wrapped around his bicep and yanked him to a stop.  

He jerked instinctively against the restraining touch, but Kakashi’s hand was firm around his arm. 

It was warm.  

“What the hell!” He hissed, jerking his arm again in the man's tight grip.  

Too tight, it caused slight tingles to emanate from where Kakashi’s slender fingers dug into the muscle of his bicep. 

“Shh.” The silver-haired shinobi hushed him, narrowed grey eye locked on the forms at the base of the hill.  

Madara glared at the side of his face for a moment before activating his sharingan and turning his focus to the suspicious figures. 

His eyes widened at what he saw. 

Down the hill, a small group of people appeared to be accosted by bandits, Madara couldn't tell whether they were shinobi or not, but the bandits seemed to be holding some very sharp weapons to the travellers. Peering a bit closer Madara realised with a small jolt that the small group included three children huddled behind a man and a woman standing in front of them protectively. The children had very interesting hair colours, a girl with reddish almost pink hair, a boy with dirty blond locks, and a boy with almost Uchiha spiky hair in a dark dark blue. He glanced at his travelling partner only to see him staring with a wide grey eye at the children he had just examined.  

“Oi!” Madara was startled as the man suddenly disappeared from beside him, dashing forward towards the convoy in a shushin so fast Madara barely caught it. He let out a low curse before following the Hatake down the hill. 

Of course, he didn’t want a poor family to be accosted on the roads, but it also wasn’t wise to rush into a situation without more information. As he tried to keep his balance sliding down the steep hill, he looked around to see how many opponents they would have to face.  

His sharingan pinged around the clearing as he reached the bottom, pinpointing the seven hostiles in the ravine. 

He took off with a leap, flipping mid-air to land behind one of the men. The raggedy-haired bandit made an aborted swipe towards him before falling limp to the ground as Madara snapped his neck with a clean movement. He winced slightly in distaste at the sound of delicate bones snapping, he didn’t like fighting civilians. It felt almost unfair that they could do so little to fight back against the might of a shinobi.  

He quickly glanced up and started moving towards the next bandit. He had taken two bounding steps towards the purple-haired man wielding a wickedly sharp-looking serrated knife when the man's head became suddenly disconnected to his body, bouncing to roll at Madara’s feet as he stumbled to a stop in surprise. He snapped his gaze to where Kakashi was methodically wiping the blood off his blade beside the still-twitching headless body.  

“Y-you,” Madara glanced around to see similar motionless bodies dotting the clearing, “You killed them all already!?” 

He was a very fast fighter, he was the best of the Uchiha for a reason, and yet Kakashi had killed several men in the span it took him to kill one. 

“Not all of them.” Kakashi was staring at a point over Madara’s shoulder. 

The Uchiha cursed as he spun around, hand pulling a kunai from his pouch as he turned to see two bandits dashing out from behind a tree towards him.  

One of the men still had no speed to match a shinobi and despite being taken uncharacteristically unaware Madara was able to double-step forward and slash the kunai across his throat quickly. Deep enough to cut his carotid artery and grant him a quick enough death.  

“Damn,” He muttered angrily to himself, “Seven, I counted seven before, should have counted the bodies after.” He wasn’t normally caught off guard like that.  

He wasn’t happy about it. Especially in front of Hatake.  

(Though he wasn’t exactly sure why) 

He quickly turned to the last bandit, this one had a distinctly more dangerous look. Long blond hair pulled into a high ponytail and two knives clutched in his hands in a grip that gave away a certain modicum of skill. He was wearing a light breastplate of armour and had sandals. 

A shinobi! 

Madara was suddenly very angry, “What sort of self-respecting shinobi robs families on the road like a common highwayman!”  

The blond sneered, showing sharp teeth, “One that can make a lot of money in the chaos you proper shinobi are creating with your little wars.”  

Madara tensed and readied to spring forward only to be stopped by Hatake stepping in front of him.  

“What-” He started, he didn’t need any protection!  

Kakashi sent him a flat stare and motioned with his head to the side. 

Madara raised his lip at him, what was Hatake playing at? Preventing him from fighting an honourless opponent! 

At Madara’s non-verbal aggression, Kakashi honest-to-god growled at him. 

The sound rumbled in the forest clearing and Madara’s eyes widened at the canine sound coming from the man’s (as far as he knew) human throat. The Uchiha felt a shiver travel up his spine and he wondered with a detached sense of odd curiosity what that sound would feel like if Madara pressed his hand against his throat again. 

He took a half step back in surprise, which was enough for Kakashi to turn his attention back to the blond shinobi twirling his knives in front of him.  

“Who the hell are you anyway, some Inuzuka fuck their dog and make you?” The man jeered. 

Kakashi let out a huff of cold laughter before springing forward.  

The blond’s eye widened in surprise before he raised his knives with a curse to catch Kakashi’s blade as the shinobi crossed the distance between them in a blink.  

Madara followed him with hungry eyes, watching the flashes of light hair and listening to the clang of blades as the two shinobi came to blows.  

After a moment they broke apart, the blond shinobi heaving heavy breaths, hair in disarray and a flurry of small cuts leaking crimson all across his body. Opposite him Kakashi stood stoically, blade held loosely at his side, not a single scratch on him. 

“What kind of monster are you!” The blond raged, one hand holding his ribs while the other maintained a white-knuckled grip on his remaining knife. 

Kakashi simply began to fly through a series of quick hand seals before saying in a level tone, “Katon.” 

Madara inhaled sharply at the flames that bloomed from in front of Kakashi to engulf his opponent in a massive ball of fire.  

It was the biggest fire jutsu Madara had ever seen from a non-Uchiha. 

The heat from the jutsu radiated around the clearing, making beads of sweat come to the surface at Madara’s hairline. He could hear panicked noises coming from the family still huddled at the base of the hill. 

Kakashi moved his hands to end the jutsu, letting the flames ebb away until there was just a large smouldering circle of burnt grass left. The only sign that there had been a shinobi there was the black singed blade of the blond’s knife.  

Madara stared wide-eyed at the spectacle, how many elemental releases did Kakashi know? He’d seen him use earth, lightning, and now fire. Did he know others? 

His silver-haired companion blinked at the place his opponent used to be and began walking back over to the cowering family, they shrank back as he approached. The one who was presumably the father crying out a plea, “Please, please don’t hurt us shinobi-san!” 

“Relax,” Kakashi said in a flat tone that Madara felt was anything but relaxing, “We’re not here to hurt you.”  

Madara walked over to where Kakashi had crouched in front of the family, they looked even more scared as he approached, the mother sending darting terrified eyes over the blood splattered up Madara’s hand and wrist.  

“That was so cool!”  

Madara froze. 

The voice had come from the dirty blond child, pushing his way through his father's protective arms to look up at the shinobi with shining blue eyes, “How did you do that? You were so fast, it was like boom! And then you were somewhere else going slash slash and then the mean people were on the ground and-” 

Madara quickly tucked his bloody hand into his sleeve while the mother slapped a hand over the child's mouth and tried to push him back behind her with the other two children, “S-so sorry shinobi-san, please, he’s just a stupid child.”  

Madara’s companion had an odd, almost soft, look in his exposed eye as he stared at the child, “It’s fine, children are inquisitive.” He stood and pointed down the ravine in the direction of the village, “You should stay off the roads, there could be soldiers passing through here in a week. There’s a new village a few hours from here, if you go to the gate and say Uchiha Madara sent you, they’ll let you in.”  

The Uchiha started at the sound of his name in the same oddly flat tone the man had adopted.  

Wait.  

Why had he given them his name? 

He looked sharply at his partner in disapproval and opened his mouth to say something, but cut himself off at the haunted look still clinging to every visible plane of the man’s pale face.  

Something still seemed... off.  

Not that Madara had known Kakashi for that long, but the feigned lackadaisical attitude he had observed was nowhere to be seen, and given how quickly he’d dealt with the bandits, civilians or not, Madara wasn’t sure he wanted to push the man that much at the moment. 

The family gave their acquiescence, though they still looked scared out of their wits by the shinobi and began to pull themselves to their feet.  

Kakashi nodded at them once, glanced at Madara, and started off along the road at the bottom of the hill in roughly the direction they had been travelling before. 

Madara trailed after Kakashi, glancing back at the family slowly regaining their bearings. He wiped his hand on his mantle, smearing the remnants of the bandit's blood on the black fabric. He had seen the man fight before, hells he had fought him himself, but that... that wasn’t a fight. This was a slaughter. Madara hadn’t even seen him move before the bandits were lying dead at his feet, not to mention how he literally vaporised that shinobi. He wondered if they were to fight who would come out on top, he was slightly disquieted to realise that he didn’t know if he could win. 

He wasn’t used to not having sure victory over anyone that wasn’t Hashirama. 

And the notion of losing to Hashirama definitely didn’t create the weird fluttering that he had noticed in his stomach that this thought did. 

He didn’t know quite what to say. 

So he buried these thoughts deep in his head and returned to the fact that something was wrong with Hatake at the moment.  

Something had shaken the silver-haired shinobi. Something with that family.  

Madara knew Kakashi had his secrets, he had made the conscious decision to try and look past some of them for the sake of his newfound home. But he was also aware that whatever bit of his past that this was bringing up had left the man not quite as whole as he was when they left the village.  

Kakashi was walking quickly along the ravine, stalking really, feet moving lightly on the damp ground with barely a sound. His arms were swaying loosely by his side, fingers twitching towards the blade he’d reattached to his thigh every few seconds. Madara looked at his stiff posture and realised he’d very rarely seen the man pulled to his full height.  

He was very tall. 

And very good at killing.  

That last fact should not make Madara feel that weird/strange/new warmth he did the last time he’d seen the man kill. 

Madara sped up slightly to walk by his side. Kakashi’s flat grey eyes flickered to him briefly before focusing dully back ahead.  

“Are you hurt?”  He asked, maybe that would get Kakashi talking. 

“No.” 

Huh, at least it was a response.  

“Do we need to stop?”  

“No” 

Ok. One-word answers, that was more concise than Madara had come to expect from the irritating shinobi.  

Madara refused to admit he was concerned, but he was certainly feeling some sort of adjacent feeling. Kakashi was twitchy and not all there, and not what Madara was used to. It reminded him of his soldiers after long battles, or if he wasn’t lying to himself, it reminded him of himself sometimes.  

He fidgeted with the hem of his mantle, he was very curious about Kakashi’s odd response to that family. He had come to realise that behind the exterior facade that the silver-haired nin presented, he was very calculated and wickedly smart. He shouldn't have jumped into a situation like that with no warning, no shinobi of his calibre would. 

“Why did you jump in so quickly to help that family?” He tried, watching the other man for a response. 

A glance from a dark eye, “Why not?”  

Madara scowled, somehow the man managed to be annoying even when he wasn’t talking so much. 

They walked in silence for another few minutes before Madara could not hold his cursed tongue again, “What was so special about those children?” 

Clouds seemed to darken Kakashi’s already stormy grey eye, he stopped and turned towards Madara, “The children?” 

Ah. There it was. 

The Uchiha stopped as well, he nodded and managed to keep a victorious smirk off his face, “The children, you kept looking at them. Especially the weird blond one.” 

Kakashi tilted his head at him, eye dark and calculating. 

Madara crossed his arms in a rare show of patience.  

The other shinobi watched him for a few beats before sighing deeply, “They... they reminded me of my students.” Kakashi glanced down, lips pulled into a flat line beneath the mask.  

Uchiha black brows shot upwards, “ You are a teacher?”  

Kakashi inclined his head, “Is it such a shock? I had three adorable little students.” 

Madara short-circuited trying to picture this odd odd man trying to teach children before his brain caught on one of the words Kakashi had used, “Had?”  

The Uchiha caught the subtle tensing of Kakashi’s shoulders, ah, this was a sensitive topic. As was to be expected really, the silver-haired nin had been remarkably evasive with any personal information.  

Madara’s eyes darted towards the trees, perhaps that may be all he was going to get out of the man for now. He took a step forward only to be surprised with the sound of Kakashi’s low voice again. 

“My students are one of the only things I have left.”  

Madara froze midstep.  

“They are somewhere far away at the moment, and I am trying to figure out how to get back to them.”  

The Uchiha turned back to face Kakashi and looked at him consideringly, “The seal.”  

He nodded, “The seal. It brought me away from them and I need to get back.”  

Madara narrowed his eyes at him, “Why are you spending so much time helping us then?” 

A slight glint of humour broke through the flatness that had taken over Kakashi’s grey eyes, “Ah, Madara-chan do I really need a reason to help you?” 

He was relieved to see the familiar mask make a reappearance, though he made sure to hide any hint of that behind a firm scowl on his face, “Don’t call me that! Answer the damn question Hatake!”  

“Well Madara-chan, if you called me something other than ‘Hatake’ maybe I’d be more receptive to your requests,” Kakashi replied with an exaggerated pout that could be seen through the black fabric of his mask. 

“No.” Madara deadpanned. He was not calling the idiot by anything that could be seen as an encouragement, “Why are you helping us?”  

“You wound me,” Kakashi sighed dramatically, “But if you must know,” he looked at Madara with a more serious expression, “It seems like a place my students could call home.”  

That quieted the Uchiha. 

That was why he was doing it, of course, to create a place for his brother to know peace. He desperately wished his other siblings were alive to know it as well. 

Before he could overthink it he found himself blurting a response, “You haven't given up on your students, that already makes you a better teacher than me." 

Hatake blinked curiously at him, “You had students?” 

Madara unfolded his arms, before quickly folding him again, why did he say anything, “Not formal students as such, but I taught my younger brothers, Hikaru and Katsuro,” he paused, “and my sister Takara.”  

Kakashi hummed slightly, “Not Izuna?”  

Madara grimaced, “No, our father trained both of us personally. He didn’t have time to train the younger ones so I did my best to teach them to stay alive.”  

His chest felt hollow, “I... I wasn’t a very good teacher.” 

The silence was somehow loud in the still forest. A light breeze ruffled Madara’s hair, carding through the strands in the mockery of a caress. 

“I once put my student into a genjutsu of her greatest fear.”  

Madara snapped his gaze up with a startled bark of laughter, Kakashi was looking at some point in the treetops, pointedly not at the Uchiha. 

“You what?” He burst out, an incredulous grin twitching at his lips.  

“Turns out her greatest fear was her teammate, and outrageous schoolgirl crush, getting beat up,” Hatake added, still making intense eye contact with the trees. 

Madara clamped a hand over his mouth to restrain the chortles of hysterical laughter threatening to break free. He was terrified that if didn’t laugh he may cry.  

And Uchiha didn’t cry.  

(Unless it was blood. Then it was acceptable.) 

He let out a few strangled noises that could possibly be called laughter before trying to regain his composure, “What were their names?”  

Kakashi finally broke his staring contest with the trees and refocused his eye on Madara, “Their names?”  

Madara nodded. 

Kakashi’s eye grew warmer, a light colour that reminded Madara of the doves he would see outside his window in the mornings occasionally, “Naruto, Sakura, and...” he hesitated, “Sasuke.” 

“Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke,” Madara repeated, “Good names, strong names. My uncle was called Sasuke, it's relatively common within the Uchiha.”  

Kakashi snorted in amusement, “What a coincidence.”  

Madara nodded in agreement with slight puzzlement, “Naruto though, isn’t that...”  

“The fishcakes in ramen?” Hatake coughed, “Yeah, his mother was a peculiar woman. It also can mean whirlwind.” 

Madara chuckled, “I’m sure there's an interesting story behind that name, mothers can come up with the most interesting reasons for names, there's an old wives tale in the Uchiha clan about a mother who named their child Kai so that whenever someone was on the battlefield all someone had to do to break them out of a genjutsu was call their name.”  

Kakashi huffed a breath of laughter that sounded warmer than before, “That would have been handy if it was that shinobi that had been Sakura's crush.” 

“You know, one time Takara was convinced she was in love with Tobirama.”  

Kakashi made a sound of disbelief, “How did that happen?”  

Madara smiled wistfully, “She snuck onto the battlefield once, she saw him send Izuna flying and decided she was going to kidnap him and marry him. When father caught her trying to sneak out of the compound with a net, she wasn’t allowed to leave for a year .”  

They started moving again, filling the air with light conversation that Madara could almost call pleasant. They traded stories of the silly things their students had done and meaningless quips.  

The rest of the journey to the Uzumaki was much more tolerable than Madara had imagined. Kakashi was still annoying and called him Madara-chan in a voice that still made the Uchiha feel strangely warm, but it wasn’t as bad as he dreaded.  

Yet. 

Notes:

The road trip from hell may not be as bad as Madara feared huh?

We'll see...

I'm really excited for the next few chapters, we're nearing the climax of part one and I promise you are Not Ready. 🙃🙃*
(or maybe you are who am i to judge your Big Moment Readiness?)
*and by nearing i mean like in a few chapters lol

ALSO just wanted to say a BIG THANKS!! for all the support for this fic, I'm so happy to see so many people enjoying it, seeing everyones kudos and comments makes me really happy! 💛💛
(I saw 500+ kudos before posting this and I swear, y'all gonna give a poor student a mini heart attack)

Slight side note, two weeks until uni is over and I can actually spend more time on this story, very excited to show you guys what I have planned!

_____

Kakashi: *literally vaporises an opponent*
Madara: Step on my throat, you rudely large man. Break my fingers, you brooding mountain.
Kakashi: wut
Madara: Pull my heart out through my ear, you meaty oak tree. Impale my brain, you unacceptable monstrosity.
(honestly just big John Oliver talking about Adam Driver energy. If this blurb makes no sense to you then please spare yourself the pain and DO NOT google john oliver talking about adam driver.)

Madara: Gee I wonder what this weird warm feeling is
Literally everyone: You're attracted to him.
Madara: I just have no idea, what could it be?
Literally everyone: YOU'RE ATTRACTED TO HIM
Madara: nope no idea, guess ill never find out!

Chapter 11: In which Kakashi has too many emotions

Notes:

CW// description of a panic attack, i tried not to make it too graphic but if you wish to skip
stop reading at: There was just so much of it
and continue at: At the sound of a throat being cleared

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Uzushio was everything Kakashi could have imagined. He stood at the edge of a short cliff face, looking down on waves pounding against the rocky shore. Down the pebbly beach the stones fell away into the river delta feeding into the rough seas. It was on the multitude of islands that made up the delta that the Uzumaki had made their home. Circular huts and homes dotted the islands, crisscrossed by countless bridges and the sweeping branches of mangroves growing in the water right by the banks. He couldn't see any physical barriers like they had in Konoha, but he could see some suspiciously placed rocks with interesting symbols carved on them around the edges of the town. It was clear that Uzushio was the home of sealing masters.

He wished Naruto could see where his family was from.  

Beside him, Madara was looking down the ocean with a pursed lip of disdain. When Kakashi shot him a questioning glance the Uchiha grimaced and replied, “I don’t like the sea, fire jutsus don’t work as well when the air is so damp.” 

Kakashi almost snorted, “Are you sure it's not because it makes your hair frizz?” 

Madara side-eyed him nastily before flipping said hair over his shoulder. “My hair is fine.”  

Kakashi raised his brow, he wasn’t one to judge someone's appearance, and Sage knew he wasn’t one to talk about eccentric looks. But the Uchiha’s hair was a mess. 

It was tangled and gnarled into knots and Kakashi could swear he saw something moving in it. Somehow the Uchiha still didn’t look bad. Kakashi lamented that even if Madara shaved it all off he would somehow still manage to be unfairly pretty. 

“I think a bird could nest in your hair right now, maybe two if they’re feeling up to neighbours.” 

The Uchiha narrowed his eyes at Kakashi, “I don’t have time to worry about my hair when the village could be under attack in a few days. And if I don’t have time to worry about it you certainly shouldn't either.” 

Kakashi sighed, “At least put it up, you don’t want to go into a meeting with the Uzumaki looking like a wild forest creature.”  

Madara gave him an affronted look but dutifully gathered his mane of hair into one hand behind his head before blinking and furrowing his brow slightly, “I don’t have a tie.” 

Kakashi had to drag his eyes away from the newly exposed lines of the Uchiha’s throat in order to huff out an exasperated breath. He opened one of the pouches on his flak jacket and started fishing for the leather strip he knew he had thrown in there. You never knew when a bit of leather would come in handy.  

Kakashi pulled out the tie victoriously and twined it around his fingers, maybe he could have a bit of fun with this, “Ok, turn around.”  

Madara raised both brows, “What.”  

He smirked under his mask, “Madara-chan, you thought that was an acceptable hairstyle to go into a diplomatic meeting with, you really think I should trust you to do this?” 

Madara glowered at him, “Don’t be ridiculous Hatake, I can put my own hair up.” He stepped forward to try and snatch the tie out of Kakashi’s hands. 

He danced backwards away from the Uchiha’s grasping hands, fixing him with a disapproving gaze, “Can you? Maybe by plan b Hashirama really meant plan braid.”  

“You are not braiding my hair!” Madara squawked, lunging again for the hair tie. 

He sidestepped again with a teasing glint in his eyes, Madara was just as easy to rile up as his genin team,  “Relax, I’m not going to braid your hair, maybe just brush it a bit!”  

The Uchiha narrowed his eyes at him, “You try that and I’ll hurt you.” 

Kakashi tilted his head coquettishly at him, “I have a very high pain tolerance you know, I wonder if you could even reach it.” 

Madara froze, sooty black eyes looking at Kakashi with confusion, flickering down to his long fingers still twisted in the leather tie. He quickly plastered a scowl back on his face, “We don’t have time for this. Do whatever, I don’t care.”  

Kakashi watched with fascination as the clan leader looked down and to the side, what looked scarily like a blush rising on the man's cheeks. He couldn’t believe Madara had actually acquiesced, the jounin had only meant to taunt him a bit before giving him the tie.  

How interesting.  

Gesturing for the other man to turn around, which he did with only the hint of a glare, Kakashi slid behind him, careful to keep a polite distance from Madara’s back. He let his eye take in the black waterfall of hair cascading down the Uchiha’s back. It almost hid the bright red and white Uchiwa emblem on the mantle the other man was wearing. It was tangled and frizzy and all Kakashi wanted to do was bury his hands in it and pull .  

But this was not the time, not the place, and he certainly couldn’t entertain these desires with Uchiha fucking Madara. No matter how nice the man looked with pink staining his cheeks.
So instead, he limited his touch as much as possible, gathering up the strands with short perfunctory movements and swiftly wrapped his leather tie around the bundle. He patted down a few loose strands, feeling Madara twitch slightly with every touch, but the Uchiha stayed obediently still. Oddly allowing someone he couldn't possibly fully trust to be at his back. Kakashi wouldn't have. 

He let his fingers twist slightly into the high tail, tugging slightly to try and tame the hair into some semblance of order.  

Madara shivered, the flush spreading to the back of his neck. Kakashi wondered where else the Uchiha would turn a pretty pink.  

He frowned beneath his mask, stopping the direction his thoughts were rapidly heading to in their tracks. It was one thing to admire, but another when his distraction was delaying their mission. Not to mention yet again, that this was Uchiha Madara .  

“Are you done yet?” The subject of his not-so-mission-appropriate thoughts snapped, crossing his arms in front of him.  

He pulled one more strand of hair into place and walked around to see his work from the front. The full picture was definitely not helping the direction he was trying to steer his thoughts in. 

How Madara looked with his hair pulled up and back was unfair . His sloped jawline was on full display and despite the eyebags laying heavy on his face, Kakashi had to actively fight the impulse to trace the man's high cheekbones. Madara’s fringe fell artfully across his forehead, falling to the side of one eye. It certainly wasn’t a perfect style, Sakura would be disappointed in him, but for the 30 seconds he spent he thought he did a damn good job. If the Uzumaki didn’t want to listen to their plea, they would certainly want to at least stare at Madara for a bit. Kakashi himself was going to have a hard enough time looking away from the Uchiha to get out the message Hashirama needed them to share. 

“Well?” Madara inquired dryly, “Am I acceptable to be seen in a diplomatic manner now?”  

Kakashi let his eyes crinkle into a smile and he nodded cheerily, “Well they’re less likely to try and chase you away with a broom at least!” 

The Uchiha scowled at him before turning away with a huff and moving towards the path winding down the cliff to the beach. 

Kakashi traced the swaying of the Uchiha’s ponytail as he walked away, suggesting he put his hair up had been a mistake.  

He wondered if everything he was doing regarding the man was a mistake. He had spilled his guts about his cute little genin for sage's sake. Kakashi hadn’t wanted to tell the Uchiha so much about his team, but he had just looked so sad talking about his siblings that Kakashi couldn't resist. He had always had a weakness for small fluffy things, it wasn’t his fault that Madara technically fit that category.  

The Uchiha wasn’t anything like Kakashi had expected. The anger, yeah sure, that was written in Konoha’s records about the first missing-nin, but everything else? How committed the man seemed to the village, how downright friendly he was with Hashirama, his tolerance of Kakashi’s teasing with minimal grumbling? That was unexpected.  

But welcome.  

Kakashi found himself relaxing slightly in Madara’s presence more so than he had in the village. He knew he couldn't actually let his guard down, but it was nice to joke around with someone again, to feel a little bit more grounded in the bizarre situation he had landed himself in. 

It was with that slight warmth growing in his chest that he followed the Uchiha down the cliff, expressly not focusing on how the newly exposed skin he could see on Madara’s neck. 

After making their way down to the rocky beach it wasn’t long before they passed by one of the odd rocks Kakashi had seen from the cliff, he caught it glow subtly as they walked past. He wondered what the seal would do if it wasn’t a physical barrier.  

It was only a few more meters down the beach that his question was answered, with a group of four red-headed nin bounding up to block their progress. At their head was a tall muscled kunoichi with bandages wrapped around her knuckles, despite her intimidating appearance, she had a relaxed grin on her face.  

“Hi! Welcome to Uzushio shinobi-san! May we ask your purpose in coming here?” Her voice was professional, but with an undercurrent of enthusiasm Kakashi assumed was genetic in Uzumaki. He tried not to look at how red her hair was, something twinging painfully inside of him. 

Madara stepped forward, took a wax-sealed scroll from inside his mantle and presented it to the patrol with both hands, “We are here representing the Uchiha and Senju clans, our clans are allied and would like to talk to your clan leader about a proposition.”  

The kunoichi took the scroll from Madara, examining the twin emblems pressed into the wax, “Hmm, finally stopped killing each other then? Well, follow me and we’ll see what we can do about getting you a meeting. It’s been a while since we’ve had visitors!” She grinned widely at them and motioned them forward. 

Kakashi inhaled sharply, her smile was blinding . It was the same toothy smile Kakashi had seen countless times, first on Kushina and then on her son. 

Gods he missed them so much. 

This was harder than he thought it would be. 

Kakashi’s breath caught in his throat as the patrol began to lead them into the town. The kunoichi’s hair swung behind her like a red banner. He hadn’t seen anything like it since the night of the Kyuubi’s attack. It had been so long, surely with all his training he could withstand seeing a few redheads, but he could already feel his heart starting to beat faster, drumming a painful tattoo inside his chest that radiated to where he could feel a lump growing in the base of his throat.  

There was just so much of it. 

Red hair flashed by, red clothing swished past him on long tanned limbs, and red banners with iconic spirals flew in the seaside breeze.  

He felt his breath coming faster, there was too much red. He was barely aware he had stopped walking and stood frozen in the middle of the pathway at the entrance to the village. 

It was crawling down his throat, cloying in his lungs. The red curled up in his chest like an angry bear squeezing tighter and tighter until he couldn't breathe right. Kakashi felt raw . He could feel the red itching under his skin and gather in the corners of his eyes. He was fracturing and there was nothing he could- 

He couldn't breathe. 

He could see Madara’s mouth moving in the shape of his name out of the corner of his peripheral vision, a glint in his eyes that could have been concern. But all Kakashi could hear was the pounding of his increasing heart rate in his ears and the rush of red red blood through his veins.  

He had to move, he had to leave.   

And so he did.  

He ripped his arm from the grip Madara had gained on him at some point and vaulted over unfamiliar circular buildings, no thoughts in his mind but to get away from the red.  

He came to a halt when his slightly blurred vision landed on a patch of vibrant green. He sunk into a crouch against one of the walls ringing the courtyard of greenery and sunk his head between his knees. His breath was still coming ragged and hitched. He felt nauseous and jagged, and all he could think about was the red. What if he had been too late to protect those children on the road that were so reminiscent of his team, what if he hadn’t pushed Tobirama when he was about to kill Izuna, what if red layered the ground outside his new house in proto-Konoha once the daimyo invaded. Everything that had happened in the last few weeks had caught up with him with all the grace of a rampaging ox.  

He just wanted to go home , but he couldn't. He had done what he always did and ruined everything. He very possibly had already shattered his future with a single mistaken action and now all he could do was stay and try and put it back together, one jagged piece at a time.  

Every fast uneven inhale was painful, his heart beating so fast he was almost concerned he had been poisoned. He needed to calm down. 

This hadn’t happened to him in a while.  

He was unfortunately familiar with the painful spiral of thoughts that had him in their grip, the tugging in his chest and his inability to take a normal breath. These attacks had haunted him for years after Kannabi bridge, the memories of his hand in Rin’s chest not something he could shake even after throwing himself headfirst into ANBU as a distraction.  

(The memories still haunted his dreams sometimes but he wasn’t going to talk about that) 

This was not the place to be doing this, he still had a mission to carry out and he couldn't leave Madara alone for too long or he might start spitting fireballs at the Uzumaki for smiling too much. He tried to take a deep breath, the air stuttering through his throat. He threw his memory back to what Inoichi had told him about what to do with these attacks, the Yamanaka was terrifying with all that he could peer into your head, but he had experience dealing with traumatised shinobi. 

(Kakashi was at least self-aware enough to realise that he was traumatised, unlike many in the village) 

He let his gaze raise slightly to identify five things he could see, focusing his attention on the here and now. He identified several particularly bright flowers, green grass, and even a few songbirds hopping amidst the bushes. Kakashi forced himself to take a few controlled breaths as he identified four things he could feel. The courtyard was remarkably green for the sandy soil he could feel underneath him, the grass springy underneath his slightly sweaty palms, and the air was cool against his face. His heart rate started to slow slightly, the rushing of blood in his ears falling away as he listened for three things he could hear. The chittering of the songbirds from earlier, the rustle of leaves in the verdant patch, and the distant roar of the ocean. His hands unclenched and he took a deep breath through his nose to smell the floral notes of the blooms around him mixed with the distant scent of fish drifting in from the docks. Lastly, he unclenched his jaw, tasting the tang of sea salt in the air. 

At the sound of a throat being cleared, Kakashi tensed and jerked his head up to meet the cool purple eyes of a woman standing on the opposite side of the garden. He felt his eye widen slightly at the painfully familiar features.  

Kakashi felt his newly regained calm almost shatter as the image of Kushina layered on top of the slightly frowning woman. He fisted his hands in the material of his pants and forced himself to observe the differences between the figure in front of him and the woman in his memories. The woman had dark red hair pulled into two buns low on her head, a slight fringe framing the lavender diamond sealed on her forehead. Her hair was a slightly darker red than he was used to, and her eyes were slightly more of an indigo than the light violet he remembered. Kushina also hadn’t frowned at him in the vaguely disapproving way this one was. He took another deep breath to steady himself and lifted his head up to meet her gaze.  

She blinked at him, “Now that I have your attention shinobi-san, may I ask what you are doing in my garden?”  

Kakashi forced himself to curve his eyes into a friendly smile, ignoring the slight tremor still present in his hands, “Ah sorry Uzumaki-san, I’m here on a diplomatic mission and just happened to trip over the walls.” 

She hummed an acknowledgement, “You just happened to trip into the princess's garden?”  

Ah.  

This must be Uzumaki Mito.  

He knew the purple diamond was familiar, it was where the legendary sannin Tsunade had learned of it after all. 

“Yes?” He said with a questioning lilt. 

She took a half step forward and peered closely at him, narrowing her indigo eyes at him, “Oh no, not another one.” 

Kakashi tilted his head in confusion, how many strange shinobi did she have appearing in her garden? 

“Your chakra is all wrong, goodness, you could have died!” She walked briskly to his side, grabbing his wrist in her calloused hands and sending a pulse of chakra radiating into him.  

He almost jolted away in surprise, it was very rude to touch another nin’s chakra without asking. Though Kakashi supposed he wasn’t one for propriety himself. 

“My name is Uzumaki Mito, my father is the clan head.” She introduced, almost as a side thought as she peered at Kakashi’s pale wrist as if it was some strange phenomenon.  

“How are you even alive?” She muttered, sending waves of cool liquid chakra through his coils. He took back his previous thoughts about propriety, this was much too invasive especially while he was still so raw around the edges. He yanked his wrist out of her strong grip and leapt across the garden to lean against one of the pillars lining the courtyard.  

“I apologise for stumbling into your garden Mito-hime, but do you mind telling me what you’re doing getting all close and personal with my chakra?” Kakashi questioned, arms crossed across his chest. 

She looked at him like he was a child, “What do you think I’m doing? If you leave the residue from the space-time seal on your chakra, it can be very damaging. Whatever seal you used is particularly bad, definitely not Uzumaki-made.” She snorted in derision. 

Kakashi stared at her incredulously, “You can sense seal residue?” 

“Well I am a sealing master, it would be irresponsible if I couldn’t.” She said matter-of-factly, a crooked grin showing her teeth.  

Kakashi was relieved to see a slightly different smile than the Uzumaki standard. It made him relax slightly.  

Wait.  

Had she said space-time seal?  

“Ah Mito-hime, how much can you tell about seal residue?”  

Her grin widened slightly, indigo eyes twinkling, “If this is your roundabout way of asking if I know you’re not from this time then your answer is yes.”  

Kakashi hummed, feeling slightly numb from the onslaught of emotions from earlier, he wasn’t nearly as freaked out about this notion as he should have been.  

The Uzumaki walked across the garden, “I won’t pry, it could damage the timeline, but you need to know your actions here can have major effects.”  

Kakashi winced.  

She caught the movement and the grin faded slightly, “You’ve already done something haven't you.”  

“Yup.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck 

She sighed, “What happened- Wait no don’t tell me. You’re here and established in the timeline now, your actions will influence the flow of time no matter what.”  

Kakashi bit his lip beneath his mask in contemplation, “Do you know if it’s possible to get back?”  

Mito folded her arms into the wide sleeves of her coat, “It’s possible yes, depending on the seal that sent you here. I take it the seal wasn’t of your design?” 

“No, but I remember what it looked like.” 

She tilted her head in question, “Perfectly?”  

“I could draw it.”  

She hummed in acknowledgement, “I’m not sure if I can help you. But I can try my best if you wish.”  

Kakashi was slightly taken aback, “Why would you just help me? What reason do you have to help a stranger?”  

Mito smiled that crooked grin again, scrunching her eyes shut the way Naruto did sometimes, “Why do I need a reason to help you? Maybe I want to help just for the sake of it!” 

The jounin quickly shoved all thoughts about a resemblance to his student to the back of his brain where they belonged, he’d had enough of emotions for the day.  

“Thank you.” He thanked her quietly, this was already more than he’d hoped for from this trip.  

She jerked her head in a sharp nod of affirmation, “Right! We can sort that out later, you’re already more tolerable than the other one. Why don’t we leave and deal with the real reason why you're here? Your companion seems to have raised quite a fuss, the patrol has triggered several of our warning seals,” She pressed a hand to an ear as if it was ringing, “ it's quite annoying.”  

(Kakashi wondered what she meant by the other one. Nah, it was probably nothing, he was still kind of frazzled from before.) 

He let out a nervous chuckle, he knew leaving Madara alone was a bad idea. Though to be fair to himself he hadn’t been thinking straight at the time. 

Mito led him back to the main streets, where they quickly found the patrol that had brought them into the city nervously surrounding a fuming Madara. The Uchiha was baring his teeth at the Uzumaki kunoichi trying desperately to talk him down.  

“What do you mean you don’t know where he went!” The loud complaint reached Kakashi’s ears as he walked up with Mito to the rough circle the Uzumaki had formed around the angry Uchiha.  

“Don’t worry Madara-chan, I was just going straight to the top!” He called, waving a hand towards his companion.  

Madara twisted rapidly to face him, sharingan flashing in his eyes, “What the fuck Hatake, what was that! Where did you go!”  

The Uchiha sharply elbowed the kunoichi in front of him out of the way to stalk over to Kakashi, hissing his reprimands, “You can't just disappear , idiot!”  

Kakashi blinked innocently at the snarling man, “I thought you had it handled, I mean I was only supposed to be plan b, though I can see why Hashirama sent me if the moment I left you’re attacking our hosts.”  

Madara made an incredulous noise, throwing his hands in the air, “I didn’t attack anyone! I was just trying to find-”  

Mito cleared her throat from beside Kakashi, watching Madara with a glint in her eyes Kakashi couldn't quite put a name to, “Sorry to interrupt, my name is Uzumaki Mito, my father is the clan leader. How may I help you?”  

Madara glanced between Mito and where Kakashi was putting on his best innocent smile, “I’m Uchiha Madara, and this moron is Hatake Kakashi, we’re here to meet with your father about a possible alliance between the Uzumaki and the Uchiha and Senju clans.”  

The jounin watched Madara spit out an explanation of their situation through a thin veneer of clam, the man's eyes still spinning red and black and flickering over every few words to glare at Kakashi. If he didn’t know any better, Kakashi would say the Uchiha had seemed concerned about him for a moment there. 

Mito listened intently, a contemplative frown taking up residence on her sun-tanned features, “Well you’ve gotten yourself in quite the debacle.” She sighed, “I’m not sure what my father will say, we’ve had a rough typhoon season and most of our clan is needed here to repair and prepare for the winter.” 

Kakashi pressed his fingers to the Uzushio decal in his pocket, he had had to remove it from the back of his flak jacket before the mission, no need to raise any more questions about his apparel. He needed those he knew to be his Konoha’s allies to be this Konoha’s allies now. 

Mito’s words about the timeline rang in his ears. He would never forgive himself if he caused the decimation of the place so many of his loved ones called home. 

Madara had calmed somewhat after retelling their story and now only shifted uncomfortably as he stood in the middle of the street under the eyes of a still quite visibly nervous patrol. 

The redheaded princess adjusted one of her buns, “Well, I suppose you can follow me. I’m sure my father has noticed the warning seal activation and is wondering about the commotion.” She gestured for the patrol to lead them towards the centre of the village, falling back to walk beside Kakashi.  

“I cannot guarantee anything from my father,” She said lowly, “But I can promise to help you with your... other matter. If that means helping with your little daimyo problem then so be it.”  

Kakashi looked at the Uzumaki with a widened eye, she was so good . A little blunt sure, and Kakashi wasn’t sure about how he felt about her practically feeling up his chakra coils, but she was ready to drop everything to help a stranger. It was a kindness he wasn’t accustomed to in the shinobi world.  

He just hoped her father was just as willing to help as she was.  

Notes:

poor kakashi, i think i stuffed him with too much trauma.

Also did I spend way too many words talking about Madara's hair? Yes. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. Madara's hair deserves ALL the words, it is glorious.

I'm so excited Mito is here. This story was lacking good female characters (as was the original material *cough* kishimoto doesn't know how to write female characters *cough*) so i'm excited to write the absolute badass that Mito it. My take on her is that she's kinda reserved, i mean she was raised as a proper clan heiress, but is also a freaking sealing genius, i mean strength of a hundred seal anyone? And she has that Uzumaki spark of kindness that makes her kinda precious.
Also I made a Tumblr because I’m weak and need more internet distractions, come shout at me https://sofieeisstupid. /
____

Kakashi: *teasing* this is fun lol
Madara: *angry bluster*
Kakashi: *slightly flirty teasing*
Madara: *404 error page*
Kakashi: oops, i broke my uchiha, what do now 0_()

Mito: so about that time-travel
Kakashi: yeah we're here about an allia- what the what now!?
Mito: time-travel, come on spit it out i'm not a moron, chop chop i dont have all day
Kakashi: but HOW DID YOU KNOW

Chapter 12: In which Madara does not like mutually beneficial alliances

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Madara didn’t like Uzushio. He didn’t like the Uzumaki. And he especially didn’t like their clan leader.

The man was an insipid fool. 

And Madara didn’t say that lightly, he was friends with Senju Hashirama after all. Uzumaki Shigeru was beyond even the Senju’s worst moments.  

He was wasting their time with all this talking.   

The Uchiha wouldn't mind so much if the Uzumaki was talking about the alliance proposal, but the heavyset clan leader instead wouldn't stop discussing the latest pearl haul and his new batch of sake imported from the capital. Though it was rather nice sake, the Uchiha had to admit, taking a swig from the cup in front of him. It really was the only thing making this meeting tolerable.  

He swirled his cup of sake and set it down on the table with a sigh. The Uzumaki’s hospitality had been lovely, the meeting room was a lovely gazebo overlooking the sea and the refreshments had been just as delectable as the clan leader had proclaimed them. He just wished the man would stop waxing poetic about the value of gold pearls versus green pearls.  

Madara had never seen a pearl before. He didn’t care. 

The cool seaside breeze was a cool caress across his nape and Madara shivered before tugging his tied-back hair to cover his neck better. He wasn’t sure if he liked the feeling of his neck being so exposed in unfamiliar territory, but he had to admit it was nice not to have it blow everywhere in the wind. Not to mention how carefully Kakashi had pulled it back for him.  

(He really should be more concerned about that warm feeling that had made itself at home in his chest in recent days...) 

The silver haired shinobi was still a mystery to Madara, but he couldn’t deny that he had felt the stirrings of worry when he had suddenly disappeared from his side upon their arrival in Uzushio. Something had spooked Kakashi about the Uzumaki, and Madara didn’t know what.  

(There was so much he didn’t know about the other nin and he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to know more) 

Across the table, a high chuckle came from the other reason for his current annoyance with his current situation. Uzumaki Mito was everything Madara could have expected from a clan heiress. She was polite and knowledgeable, and the calluses on her hands marked her as a capable kunoichi. She was even doing her best to steer her father back to the topic at hand when he rambled too much.  

She also seemed to have taken a shine to Kakashi. 

Not that Madara cared. Kakashi could associate with whoever he wished. 

But Kakashi had the gall to make Madara worry about him rushing off to sage knows where before returning on the arm of the Uzumaki princess. Did he know the Uzumaki in some way? Was that why they had been whispering to each other the whole walk to the main house? Was that why Kakashi’s eyes got a weirdly distant look in them when he looked at Mito?  

So yeah, Madara was a little annoyed.  

“Uchiha-sama?”  

He jerked his gaze back to the clan leader, embarrassed to have been caught off guard. He gave an apologetic smile more akin to a grimace to Shigeru, “Apologies to Uzumaki-sama, what was your question?” 

The clan leader gave a hearty guffaw, “You seem pretty taken with that sake Uchiha-sama, I told you it was a good batch, you know when I talked to the maker about-”  

“Father,” Mito called from across the table, the slightly strained tone of voice showing the cracks in composure the rambling was bringing out even in the careful heiress. 

Kakashi cleared his throat, drawing Madara’s gaze again, “If I may Uzumaki-sama, we were discussing the potential to aid Uzushio with typhoon repairs in exchange for support with the Fire daimyo.”  

A more serious expression took root on the clan leader's face, “I have kept you long enough haven't I? You did mention the ability of the Senju’s Mokuton to speed up our repairs greatly, it is a tempting offer.” He pauses to sip his sake, “However I’m not sure we can aid your war efforts.”  

“It’s not a war effort, it's self-defense!” Madara cursed his inability to hold his tongue as the retort burst from his lips. Across the table, Kakashi shot him a sharp glance of reproach. 

“Yes yes, the allegations from the daimyo aren’t true, you mentioned that.” The Uzumaki’s close-set blue eyes glinted sadly, “Hatake-san, Uchiha-sama, you have to realise your position is not the strongest. You ask me to go to war with a foreign daimyo, for clans I have no stake in, for the promise of future repairs made with foreign chakra in the very heart of my city which is dependent on the reliability of Uzumaki chakra. It’s not exactly the best deal for us.” 

Madara felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as the clan leader continued, “I would like to help you, I really would. I would be happy to see more clans doing what you are, this age of war has gone on too long. That being said, I cannot push my shinobi into a foreign fight for so little in return.” Shigeru set down his cup and clasped his hands in front of him, “We are safe here, wealthy and healthy. You have nothing to offer us that can greatly improve that. I’m afraid you will have to look elsewhere for allies. 

Mito stared at him with wide eyes, “Father-”  

“Please show our guests out Mito,” The large Uzumaki stood from the table and looked between Madara and Kakashi, “I really do wish you well, I hope your village survives this test. Perhaps in the future when you are on steadier footing, we can reconsider an alliance that would be more mutually beneficial.”  

Before Madara could respond he was ushered out of the gazebo into the warm midday sun. He stared back at the emptying gazebo blankly, was that it? Had he failed? The entire mission had blown up in two sentences from that wretched man. 

How dare he speak of hopes for the future when he would leave them to burn . That condescending asshole had some nerve to speak about ‘ mutually beneficial’ .  

His blank disbelief melted into a liquid fury he could feel boiling up within him. His hands were clenched into tight fists and he felt a rush of chakra as his sharingan spun to life.  

If the Uzumaki weren't going to listen to his diplomatic attempt of their own volition, he could make them listen.  

“Madara.”  

A hand grabbed his forearm tightly and Madara snapped his furious gaze to the owner of the hand.  

Kakashi met his gaze evenly, cool grey eye locking with Madara’s spinning ones without fear, “As satisfying as it would be, setting him on fire isn’t going to solve our issue.” 

“We can’t just let him dismiss us like that!” Madara snarled, yanking at his arm in Kakashi’s grip, “I am the leader of the Uchiha clan, how dare he brush us off as if we are worth nothing to him? I am not leaving here without help for the village”  

The other nin didn’t budge, “Which is why we won’t. Though our help isn’t going to come from the oaf.” Kakashi soothed, gesturing to the side where Mito was still standing. 

Madara faltered, what was she still doing here? 

Mito smiled glibly at the two shinobi, “Oh don’t let me interrupt. It’s not like we have a heist to plot or anything.”  

His sharingan sputtered and spun out, “A heist?” 

Mito's smile faded to a smirk more fitted to a fox than a heiress, “Oh yes, didn’t you want some Uzumaki assistance? We have many tags and seals that could be of the utmost use. If only you had the help of someone who knew where they were...”  

Kakashi let go of his wrist finally, leaving Madara’s skin smarting slightly, “Mito has agreed to help us, despite her clans... reluctance.”  

Madara narrowed his eyes at the heiress, “This has been happening all too often lately, what is it with people wanting to help us.”  

Kakashi crinkled his eyes at the Uchiha as he walked over to Mito, “Maybe you just have one of those faces Madara-chan!”  

The Uchiha scowled at him, “You say that as if you didn’t try to sneak out of my compound the first time we met.”  

He pouted, “Well you do make it hard for people to help you when you spit fire at them.”  

“Enough!” Madara huffed, “I know what you’re doing and I won’t fall for this time. Why is the Uzumaki helping us against the explicit orders of her father?”  

“The Uzumaki has a name,” The heiress intoned with pursed lips, “and she is perfectly capable of making decisions independent of her father.”  

Kakashi lifted a hand to dramatically whisper in Mito’s ear, “He doesn't do very well with calling people by their first name.”  

“Shut up Hatake!”  

The other shinobi lifted a silver brow, “See?” 

Mito nodded sagely, “I see. If names are an issue he can always call me hime, I am a princess.”  

“I am not calling you that!” Madara let out an undignified noise, what did they take him for? 

“Uzumaki-hime, try it, it's not that hard.” Mito sounded out the syllables like Madara was some child she was teaching to talk.  

Madara looked at her in wide-eyed disbelief, was she serious?!  

“Or you could just call me Mito, it’s much easier, only two syllables.” She said with a slight smirk tugging her mouth up.  

“Fine. Mito.” Madara gritted out, he had no idea how he was going to survive the combination of these two.  

Kakashi pouted, leaning to rest his elbow on Mito’s shoulder, “It took you two minutes to get him to crack, and yet I’m still just Hatake after multiple weeks, how is that fair?” 

The heiress flicked his arm off her with a delicate movement of her wrist, “Well as long as we’re listing ways I’m better than you, I’m much prettier and have much better fashion sense, really Kakashi, what is that vest?” 

The silver-haired man looked affronted, “I don’t understand what is so bad about the flak jacket...”  

Madara’s eyes narrow, “What’s a flak ja-”  

“Anyways!” Kakashi clapped his hands together, “Mito, our newest dear ally, I believe we have some things to steal?”  

She nods, “We can hit the outer storage, it has many of our destructive tags, as well as some defensive seal, outlines that will be useful for preparing for an assault on your village. Uzushio won’t even miss them.”  

Madara nodded slowly, if Mito was as good a sealing master as everyone seemed to think then this could help make up for the allies they had failed to procure. However something was still bothering him, “You never answered why you’re so willing to help us, surely the promise of a few repairs isn’t going to sway you if it didn’t your father.”  

Mito’s odd purple eyes dart between the two shinobi, “Well...”  

Kakashi steps forward, “Mito has agreed to help me try and get back to my students.”  

Madara frowned, “You need a seal to do that? I mean I know that’s how you got here but surely once you’re done with your business here, you can just travel back by foot.” 

The man’s grey eye seemed to stare right through the Uchiha’s head, “It’s a long way away Madara.” 

Mito nodded sharply, “And if I want to help him I suppose I have to help where he’s living!”  

Madara watched her carefully, “That's very loose reasoning.” 

She grinned crookedly at him, “So? Maybe I just want to help you! Except it Uchiha, it’s not like you have that much of it to go around.” 

Madara had to begrudgingly acknowledge that what the Uzumaki said was true. He wasn’t exactly in the position to be declining what she was offering. 

“Fine.” He admitted, “We could use the help, where’s this storage building you mentioned?” 

It wasn’t until he found himself hauling himself over courtyards and up walls of buildings that he started to question if every new nin he met was going to be batshit insane, the small storage building the princess knew turned out to be the heavily guarded auxiliary armoury.  

“What the fuck Mito!” Madara cursed as he vaulted over circular roofs as the shouts of Uzumaki shinobi echoed throughout the streets. His satchel of parchment tags and heavy sealed tiles thumped against his back as he jumped, causing him to have to adjust his trajectory to account for the additional weight. 

The princess jumped over a balcony after him, “Well to be fair I haven’t been there since putting my seals in, how was I supposed to know there were so many guards stationed there normally?”  

“You live here!” Madara exclaimed with exasperation, dodging a flying kunai that whistled by his shoulder.  

She somehow managed to look down her nose at him in the midst of scrambling over a tile-roofed bridge, “I’m a princess, you think I really spend that much time at armouries? ” 

“You’re also a kunoichi of your clan, you’re telling me you never fought in a battle?” 

She sniffed, flipping over a wide-eyed auburn-haired shinobi trying desperately to block their path, “I had people bring me my gear, or I went to the main armoury with my father, my gear would never be stored in the auxiliary .”  

The Uchiha rolled his eyes, before ducking under a torrent of water sent up by a kunoichi watching them from the street. 

“We have to leave, what's the quickest way out?” He asked impatiently, Mito got them into this mess, she could get them out of it too.  

“This way,” She darts in front of Madara, jumping over a narrow canal onto a long angled roof, “We can get to the beach a few roads over and then up to the cliff to meet Kakashi.”  

The other shinobi had gone the opposite way after their break-in, hoping to lead the guards away from Madara and Mito, who were carrying the majority of their stolen bounty. Madara caught flashes of flame from a few streets over so he figured the troublesome man was holding his own.  

(He certainly wasn’t worried again, no definitely not) 

After a close call with the border patrol, the two nin sat panting at the top of the cliff overlooking the river delta. The midday sun beat down on Madara’s neck, hot despite the cool seaside breeze. The Uchiha enjoyed it while he could, he knew the season would change soon enough, fall would be on its way and bring much cooler temperatures with it. He wondered how all the trees in the valley would look painted in the golds and oranges of fall.  

(He hoped there was still a valley to observe once fall swung around) 

His musings about how Hashirama would cope with his precious trees losing their leaves were abruptly cut off as Kakashi rocketed into the clearing, sandaled feet skidding on the sandy soil. 

“We might want to leave,” He glanced down the cliff behind him, “Preferably now.” 

Mito rose to her feet, flicking her long sleeves into order, “I take it you didn’t manage to lose the guards?” 

“No, not quite”  

Madara did not like running away. It wasn’t like him to back down. But faced with a whole village of angry Uzumaki from whom they looted an entire armoury he would happily flee with his tail between his legs. 

And so they ran.  

They covered ground quickly, not quite as quickly as when it was just him and Kakashi, but Madara was impressed at the pace Mito managed.  

The sun had fallen by the time they were surrounded by the trees of the Land of Fire again and Madara was tired . It wasn’t like he’d been sleeping particularly well before the mission, let alone the campsites he’d had to deal with the last few days. They still had plenty of time before they were due back, they could afford to stop and rest. Madara explained as much to Kakashi and Mito and soon enough they were setting up a small campsite in a clearing amidst a cluster of slender elm trees. 

He shrugged out of his mantle and spread it out on the forest floor, it wasn’t a futon, but it was better than nothing. He sank bodily to the ground with a huff, facing inward to observe the other two figures in the clearing. Mito was almost directly opposite him, pressing a piece of paper with black whorls on it to the tree truck. It flashed blue before sinking into the wood, the paper crumbling away to leave only the faint imprint of the symbols engraved into the tree. 

“This will stop anyone from noticing us for the night, no one can find us if they don’t know we're here,” Mito explained before sinking to the ground to lean against the tree.  

Kakashi hummed in acknowledgement from where he had been watching the seal work raptly and quickly set a small fire in the middle of the clearing, chasing away the darkness with flickering firelight. 

Madara watched him with half-lidded eyes, the man’s silver hair caught the firelight beautifully, almost glowing in the warm orange hues. He wanted to touch it, to see if it would burn him in the same way fire would.  

He wasn’t sure he would mind even if it did. 

Madara felt the back of his neck start to burn slightly, reminding him that his neck was still very visible. He fumbled at the top of his hair, pulling on the leather tie Kakashi had wound around his hair. The man in question was watching him with no small amount of amusement in his eyes when Madara glanced towards him. The Uchiha flushed a bit further and tugged harder at the tie, finally pulling it loose. His hair was a welcome familiar feeling against his neck and around his face, hiding any red that threatened to show. 

“I would have helped if you’d asked Madara-chan,” Kakashi purred, leaning forward where he sat beside Mito to peer at him. His face was thrown into sharp contrast by the flames, eye dark and reflecting the dancing flames above an elegant cheekbone cut across by the tight material of his mask.  

He ignored the jump in his gut and laid down with a huff to face away from the fire. Kakashi was an annoyance, nothing more, but still so distracting

Madara closed his eyes, listening to the crackle of the fire and low conversation that picked up between Mito and Kakashi. He tried to follow it at first, but as he grew closer to the still waters of unconsciousness, the mentions of ‘spatial seals’ and something called ‘Konoha’ drifted in one ear and out the other.  

He let himself sink into sleep, put at ease by the murmur of conversation from the other side of the camp. Perhaps a bit too at ease because the next thing he knew he was jolting awake to a large burst of chakra in the middle of their makeshift campsite. 

He jolted upwards, hand reaching blindly for the pouch of kunai he had stashed beside his mantle. Instead of the soft leather bag, his hand landed on what was distinctively a hand.  

“Wha-” Madara started in surprise, wrenching himself to his feet in an alert position despite the slowness of sleep still clinging to his bones. 

To his surprise, he was greeted with the figure of Senju Tobirama crouched in the middle of the campsite, hand on the ground covering Madara’s kunai pouch.  

Across the clearing, Mito had pulled a senbon needle from her sleeve and was tensed on the balls of her feet glaring with narrowed eyes at the unknown figure. 

Beside her Kakashi waved lazily at the Senju, pushing down Mito's ready arm, "Good evening Tobirama-san!" He paused, "Ah is it technically morning now? No matter, please make yourself at home before you give Madara-chan grey hairs, I don't think it would look as fetching on him as it does on me." 

Madara could see a slightly frantic glint in the Senju's usually perfectly composed face even as he smirked slightlyIgnoring Kakashi, Madara sank back to the ground with a huff, “What the fuck Senju, couldn’t have approached like a normal person?” 

Though the fire had gone out, the softly glowing embers that remained allowed Madara to see a strangely panicked tinge to the Senju’s normally stoic face, “Normally I would gladly take the opportunity to make fun of the Uchiha, but there is no time.” He glanced around the small campsite, “Please tell me the rest of the Uzumaki are somehow cloaked and are here somewhere .”  

Madara grimaced, “We were unable to secure the aid of the Uzumaki,” He paused as Tobirama's almost frantic gaze turned to focus on Madara, “However, we do have the help of the heiress Uzumaki Mito, and a very large supply of various explosive tags and other seals that will be helpful in our defence.”  

Tobirama stood from his crouch and paced around the small clearing, muttering bitterly under his breath, “Knew we shouldn't have trusted an Uchiha, fool probably burned the place down-”  

“Oi!” Madara started angrily, “I didn’t do anything, the Uzumaki were just uncooperative .” He hissed the last word through clenched teeth, someday he would go back and show Uzumaki Shigeru exactly what mutually beneficial was. Madara still couldn't believe the nerve of that man. 

Mito tucked her senbon back away and sank into a graceful seiza, “To be fair, you did basically show up on Father’s doorstep begging for help with very little to show for it.”  

He shot a glare at the aloof princess, “And yet you’re here aren’t you, Mito?”  

She smiled a crooked grin at him, “Well I’m here for Kakashi really, saving your village is more of a side quest.”  

Tobirama was examining the princess carefully, “Can you fight?” 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that.” She raised an imperious brow at the Senju, smile growing a bit sharper.  

Kakashi sighed, “Yes she can fight Tobirama-san, the seals we brought will be of great use as well. It’s not a full army of Uzumaki, but it’s certainly something.”  

The Senju let out a grunt of acknowledgement, “Fine. I’ll tell Hashirama you failed.”  

“We didn’t fail-” Madara’s sharp retort was cut off by the Senju reaching down to fish something out of Madara’s pouch.  

“Oh, and get back to the village.” Tobirama added as an afterthought, fishing out an oddly engraved three-pronged kunai that Madara couldn't remember putting in, “Hurry.”  

Tobirama nodded once before disappearing with another loud pop. 

“What the fuck.” Madara’s voice hung in the still night air. It was still the middle of the night, and the Uchiha was not in the mood to deal with the Senju’s antics.  

Mito was gazing curiously at where Tobirama had disappeared, “How did he do that, some form of spatial displacement seal perhaps? No, it was instantaneous transportation, how fascinating! Perhaps more of temporal -spatial displacement-” She cut herself off with a glance to Kakashi. 

The silver-haired nin was also gazing at where the Senju had been, albeit with less curiosity and more narrow-eyed caution. He sniffed the air, once, twice, before going stiff and pushing himself to his feet with an almost feline grace that Madara couldn't help but watch. 

He sniffed again before cursing lowly, “He smelled like smoke.”  

Madara blinked at him, why would it matter what the Senju smelled-  

Oh.  

Oh no.  

They had to get back to the village now

Madara didn’t think he’d ever run faster. Even on the battlefield, or when Izuna had dropped fire ants down his back. Beside him, Mito was struggling to keep up with their hurried pace, while Kakashi loped in front of them, that same liquid grace Madara had observed earlier propelling him easily through the darkened treetops. 

His hands grew bloodied and scraped as they rushed frantically through the forest, Mito’s breath growing ragged and even Kakashi was starting to flag a bit as the hours ticked by.  

Eventually, after far far too long, they skidded to a halt on top of the large cliffs overlooking the village, where Madara had met Hashirama for all those quiet lunches watching their creation. They arrived to the hazy pre-dawn light painting their surroundings in shades of gray, any colour completely washed out. 

Madara inhaled harsh breaths to catch his breath from the frantic pace. He hacked as instead of air his lungs filled with the acrid tang of smoke. Stumbling closer to the edge of the cliff his eyes widened with horror as instead of the quiet vista he was used to, his gaze was blocked by vast clouds of smoke. Shouts and screams drifted upwards from the village and Madara could see the flicker of yellow and orange tongues of flame through the thick smoke.  

“Oh gods...” Mito gasped beside him. 

No, Madara didn’t understand, they still had time . They were still three days early! 

Something had gone terribly wrong because the village was burning. 

Notes:

hehe, we're getting to the end game now... (of part one, does that make this midgame??) I'm wildly excited to write the next two chapters...

I feel like Mito and Kakashi are going to be best buddies, and ya know? Not what I had planned but i'm gonna go with it. Mito and Madara on the other hand... well they haven't killed each other yet!

Also, I'm sorry this chapter was delayed, but uni is finally done for the year (!!!) so expect more regular updates!

Also, I made a tumblr Sofiee , pls be my friend ;-;

_____

The Uzumaki: lol we're not helping you
Madara: *activates sharingan* bet
Kakashi: madara nO
Madara: but but they're mean
Kakashi: *cackles* that's why we're gonna rob them blind instead

What a conversation could have looked like between Mito and Madara on the cliff-
Madara: so you know Kakashi
Mito: not really.
Madara: but like... you guys seem really familiar
Mito: nah we just met.
Madara: are you sure?? cause when i first met him he tried to run away
Mito: i feel like that says more about you than about him
Madara: ouch

Tobirama: *appears out of nowhere*
Madara, Kakashi, and Mito: AHHHH
Tobirama: *checking under bags and cloaks* I know you're hiding Uzumaki somewhere here
Madara: uhhhh thats a no chief, also how did you get here
Tobirama: *tucks the kunai he snuck into madara's bag behind his back* WELL IF THERE'S NO HELP IMA GO

Chapter 13: In which things happen in way that Kakashi does not expect

Notes:

(im sorry)

Just as a warning this does end on uhh a bit of a cliffhanger so... be warned.

CW// very brief mention of eye trauma

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

In the early morning haze, Konoha burned beautifully. 

The fire seemed alive. Tongues of yellow and orange flame devouring the carefully built buildings and enveloping them in its fiery maw. He could hear the roar of the hungry blaze through the smoke, through with screams and the sounds of fighting echoing in the valley.

For Kakashi, it was reminiscent of his nightmares. 

Konoha in flames was a staple, the shriek of the Kyuubi and the roaring fires that surrounded it as it smashed its way through his village. Ashes fell around him, sticking in his hair and choking his lungs. The helplessness of being shunted to the side, not knowing what was happening to those he was charged to protect. 

But this wasn’t one of his nightmares. 

This was painfully real. 

And it hurt.

It was still pre-dawn as he stood frozen looking down at the village, slightly chilly as fall grew nearer and mist hung in the air, mixing with the billows of smoke drifting upwards. Beside him, Mito was staring down horrified, while Madara... Madara looked struck dumb.

The Uchiha swept over the valley with wide dark eyes, hands fisted in the thick material of his mantel so tightly his knuckles were white.

“What happened...” Mito’s whisper was barely audible over the inferno raging before them. 

“I don’t understand, we’re early, Madara took a shaky gasp of air and spun to face Kakashi, “We’re early, right? We’re early!”

He nodded slowly, “We’re early, something went wrong.”

The Uchiha glanced desperately back down to the valley, “But we prepared, we had defences, we had patrols, we had information.” 

Kakashi narrowed his eye, “We did have information didn't we... information that prompted us to seek out allies by sending some of our strongest fighters out of the village, which is exactly when they attacked.” 

Mito tore her eyes away from the blaze, “Someone played you.” 

Madara cursed, “I hate dogs.” He ran a shaky hand through the mane of hair that had reappeared after the adorable display at their campsite.

Kakashi figured he should probably be offended by that statement, but it wasn’t Madara’s fault he didn’t know about his summons. 

Their Uzumaki companion paced to the edge of the cliff, her crimson hair reflecting the firelight in a way that made it almost look like fire itself, “We have to find your Senju friends, they’ll be those best able to tell us what happened.” 

It said something about how worried Madara was that he didn’t refute the assumption about his ‘Senju friends’ Kakashi thought, observing the way the Uchiha’s eyes flit over the buildings down below with a glimmer of frantic energy.

“Izuna, gods I have to find my brother...” Madara’s breath came unevenly.

Kakashi needed to get a better look at the situation. He kept a careful eye on Madara as he brought his hand up to his hitai-ate, he didn’t want to upset the Uchiha in his volatile state, but the man already knew about the sharingan, surely it wouldn’t be a shock if he used it.

Sliding the headband up he blinked open Obito’s eye for the first time since that chaotic first day he’d arrived in the past, the immediate jump in sharpness in his vision both a reassurance and a painful reminder. 

He scanned the area closest to them through the smoke, spotting familiar figures sporting Uchiha and Senju crests running through the streets, not in full battle wear but carrying weapons. Some had formal weaponry and others carried large kitchen knives or axes for chopping wood. 

They had been caught unaware by the attack. 

Opposite the Uchiha and Senju were two other familiar crests, his lips twisted down beneath the mask before saying in a flat tone, “Inuzuka and Hyuuga, they’re working together.” 

Madara twisted towards him at the proclamation, eyebrows shooting upwards at the unexpected red eye greeting him, “Your eye.” 

“Not my eye,” Kakashi corrected.

The Uchiha was looking at him oddly, something painful in his eyes. Kakashi was very used to that when people looked at Obito’s eye. Though he couldn't say a small part of him didn’t shrink back every time it happened. He waited for the Uchiha to sneer in disgust or call him a thief. 

He did neither. 

Instead, he stepped closer, hand twitching at his side. Kakashi tensed, while he understood Madara may want the eye back for his clan he had thought that perhaps he had earned a bit more trust than that.

His hand brushed the hilt of the blade at his thigh, if Madara wanted the eye he could wait until the village was out of danger. He didn’t want to hurt him, but he could take a few swings to warn him off. 

Kakashi tilted his head as the Uchiha stepped even closer, much too close for the jounin’s shot nerves. He tensed to jump backwards but stopped as he peered closer at the odd look in the Uchiha’s onyx eyes. It wasn’t disgust, merely pain, a hint of something darker, and a torment twisting his brow that had Kakashi wondering if he was projecting his emotions out.

He stood deathly still as Madara lifted a slightly trembling hand towards his face, instead of plunging into his eye socket to reclaim the stolen orb as he feared, the Uchiha brushed calloused fingertips against the sensitive skin underneath his eye, grazing his eyelashes and catching slightly on the raised tissue of his scar. He paused for a moment before tracing the scar down, stopping at the fabric line of his mask. 

Kakashi was embarrassed as his breath caught slightly, a liquid warmth rising in his stomach that had absolutely no business being there at a time like this. 

Mito cleared her throat loudly, “Perhaps we can save this for when your village isn’t on fire?

Madara seemed to realise all at once what he was doing, eyes widening comically before jumping back quick as a rabbit with a violent blush rising on his cheeks. 

Kakashi glanced away as well, caught wildly off guard by whatever that was. Flirting a bit with the Uchiha was one thing, letting him feel up his face was another. Especially since he was realising, he really didn’t hate the thought of Madara feeling up other parts of him.

He smiled, crinkling shut both eyes at his companions with a levity he didn’t quite feel, “A bit of warning next time Madara-chan, most people warn me before poking around a past traumatic injury.” 

The raven-haired man refused to look at him, crossing his arms and glaring down resolutely at the burning village, “Shut up Hatake.” 

“Ah, you’ve seen my darkest secret, surely that puts us on a first-name basis?” 

Madara turned back to him and bared his teeth at him in a way that had Kakashi’s instincts begging to snarl at the other man. He should really know better than to display his aggression like that to a dog summoner.

Well, Kakashi supposed he really shouldn’t know better given that the Uchiha hadn’t met his pack yet. He wondered if he would hate them as much as he seemed to hate the Inuzuka.

He shook his head. Why did he care what the Uchiha thought so much? He may be a pretty distraction and a useful ally, but that was it. Kakashi was better than getting attached to an asset. 

It was with this reminder of his place here that Kakashi refocused on the village below, ignoring how Madara’s eyes darted back to the lines of his face the moment Kakashi glanced away.

“We have to find the Senju.” He reiterated Mito’s point, “And drive out the Hyuuga.” 

“Those bastards,” Madara hissed, seemingly trying to brush aside whatever moment they had shared as enthusiastically as Kakashi was. 

Mito bit her lip thoughtfully, “The Uzumaki don’t typically deal with the Hyuuga, I’m not particularly sure how they fair against our seals, but I do know the Byakugan is quite formidable.” 

“We need to get down there now,” Madara growled, tired of waiting around.

Kakashi gave a perfunctory nod of his head before the three nin made their way quickly down the cliff face. The closer he got to the bottom the more heat he could feel radiating onto his face. The inferno swirled around them, and ash was thick in the air by the time he touched down on the ember-lined streets.

Madara was taking short breaths beside him, sharingan swirling alive in his eyes recording the horror around them. 

In the streets, it was much louder. 

It was impossible to hide from the roar of the scorching blaze when they were surrounded by it. Mito hissed as a large ember landed on her sleeve, she brushed it away leaving behind a dark sooty mark on the pale fabric of her robe. It was hard to avoid them, the air was so thick with smoke it was hard to see anything more than a few meters in front of them.

Kakashi tilted his head as a familiar figure emerged from the haze, stumbling forward into sight. 

“Hikaku!” Madara burst out, dashing forward to greet his cousin.

“Madara!” The other Uchiha exclaimed with wide eyes, “Oh thank the goddess you’re here.” 

“What happened here?” The clan leader blurted, brushing a few stray sparks off the other man's arms.

Hikaku sighed tiredly, “Where to begin... We need to get you to the Senju, they need your help.” 

Kakashi’s eyebrows rose, what could the god of shinobi and his legendary brother need help with?

(There was something he was missing)

He blinked, something shifting in the smoke that he could only see due to the sharingan, “We have company.” 

Hikaku cursed, “I thought I lost them.” 

Madara spun towards where three Hyuuga shinobi became visible, sharingan flashing, “Were these milky-eyed fuckers hurting you, cousin?”

The other Uchiha raised a brow, “Don’t hurt them too bad Madara, they did an admittedly impressive job of tracking me.”

“I’ll show you impressive,” Madara growled, cracking his knuckles.

And oh, Kakashi was impressed. 

The Uchiha’s hair swayed around him as he flew through a series of hand seals, Kakashi followed his movements closely with his sharingan, never one to give up copying a new jutsu, there was a reason for his nickname of course. 

Finishing in a modified ram seal Madara took a solid stance, the flames around them shuddered before moving. Swirling down and in, Mito let out a quiet curse as she had to duck under a tongue of flame flying past her head. The bands of flame danced around the Uchiha, whipping up a hot breeze that had his tangled hair thrashing around yet somehow miraculously not catching on fire.

Kakashi watched enraptured as Madara was almost engulfed in fire, an ethereal figure lit up in the bright heat of the flame. The fire twisted faster around him, spinning white-hot in a devilish display of control. 

“Hah!” Madara laughed, “You thought you could attack the Uchiha clan with fire and not get burned?” 

The Uchiha grinned savagely before releasing the seal, “Katon!”

The tongues of flame the man had swirled around him suddenly rose up and up and then rushed forward, a white-hot tidal wave of fire crashing down on the three Hyuuga who suddenly very much looked like they wished they had lost Hikaku in the smoke.

Kakashi was glad their screams were drowned out by the roar and crackle of the blaze around them, he needed no more memories of the Kyuubi’s attack when he was literally in the middle of Konoha on fire. 

Madara stalked back to them, a feral expression twisting his face, “How dare those Hyuuga dogs attack my family.” 

Mito hummed, “Impressive.” 

The Uchiha frowned, put out a bit by the Uzumaki’s lacklustre reaction. 

“Very!” Kakashi added cheerfully, drawing three sets of eyes. 

Hikaku stiffened in shock at the additional sharingan, “Wha-” 

“Leave it.” 

Both Kakashi and Hikaku looked to Madara in surprise, the clan leader looking away with a clicking sound of his mouth. 

“But Madara-” 

“I said leave it Hikaku,” Madara said lowly. 

The other Uchiha’s lips thinned in displeasure, “Of course Uchiha-sama.” 

The clan leader grimaced. 

Hikaku stood to attention, back straight and eyes cold, “The Senju are this way, please follow me Uchiha-sama,” He glared at Kakashi, “Hatake.”

Kakashi smiled at him, this was a much more typical response than whatever strange behaviours Madara was exhibiting. 

They were led through the village quickly, pausing a few times to fight a few lone Hyuuga or to pick up the village inhabitants wandering the streets armed with household tools.

They had grown closer to the administration tower when the sounds of fighting began to overwhelm the crackle of the fires around them. Kakashi crept ahead, motioning for the others to stay behind him as he peeked around the corner. The wide space that when Kakashi had last seen it had played host to food stalls and families frolicking was now a battlefield.

Lines of Senju and Uchiha, thankfully more battle-equipped than the ones they had picked up in the streets, were facing off against brown haired Hyuuga and the ragtag assortment of Inuzuka and their partners. 

“The dog girl!” Madara burst out from behind him, eyes locked on the figure of Inuzuka Rika. The clan leader was astride her massive sheepdog, bearing down on a group of Uchiha backed against a flaming building.

Hikaku’s mouth twisted downwards, “Cowardly betrayers, the daimyo offers them a little coin and they roll over to become his loyal dogs.” 

Madara sneered, “It makes sense doesn't it, mutts will never change their colours, no matter how much they play at being human.”

Ouch. Kakashi felt he should definitely be offended at this point.

A flash from above had Kakashi glancing up only to see Senju Hashirama crashing down from the sky. He landed hard near the middle of the area, a heavy impact shattering the dirt and stone street beneath him and shaking the ground, causing a building on the far side of the open area to crumble into ash. The Senju wretched himself to his feet, wide eyes looking up to the sky searching desperately for something, around him shoots of green growth crept through the cracks in the ground. They quickly grew to heavy woody growths clobbering at any enemy shinobi that approached like massive hands swatting at ants. 

“Come and face me!” Hashirama bellowed, voice ringing out over the battlefield. 

Kakashi noted that he wasn’t paying a whisper of attention to the Hyuuga and Inuzuka trying in vain to attack him, instead his eyes were still desperately scanning the smoky sky above him. 

What was the man looking for- 

There!

It was quicker than Kakashi could blink before a black-cloaked figure was suddenly there in front of Hashirama. The new figure struck quickly, a glittering knife lashing out at the Senju’s shoulder. It was almost instantaneous, Kakashi knew it couldn't be a shunshin, not even Shisui could just appear. It could be the hiraishin, but the jounin couldn't see any three-pronged kunai even with his sharingan scanning diligently.

Madara darted forward as the knife dug into his friend's arm, jumping over skirmishing shinobi to get closer to the centre. Kakashi followed closely behind with Mito, Hikaku, and the others they picked up making their way back towards the administration building, behind the defensive lines of the battle.

“Hashirama!” Madara called loudly to be heard above the fray.

“Madara?” Hashirama called in disbelief, eyes widening at the sight of the Uchiha bounding through the battle towards him. He jerked away from the mysterious shinobi and vaulted to the top of one of his woody growths. With a few hand seals, thick vines shot forward from his feet towards the black-cloaked figure. The man turned his hooded head towards the approaching shinobi before vanishing without a trace just as the vines slammed into where he had just been standing.

A few shouts echoed among the enemy lines before they quickly pulled out, leaving only groaning shinobi and kunoichi on the ground and the crackle of the fires around them. The quiet after the battle, Kakashi supposed. He hastily pulled his Hitai-ate back over the sharingan, fending off the questions of one Uchiha was one thing, but he didn’t want to draw the attention of a whole battle-ready outfit. 

They found themselves gathering in the large open area in front of the administration tower, the perimeter guarded by lines of Uchiha and Senju soldiers. Senju Hashirama paced in the centre of the street, blood leaking from the bandage hastily wrapped around his shoulder. Tobirama was following him closely, his mouth a frustrated thin line.

“If you’d just let me heal it-” 

“You need to save your chakra, Tobi, I won’t have you wasting it on a scratch,” Hashirama scolded, shooting a worried look at his brother, “I know making the jump earlier must have cost you.”

The younger Senju turned away with a scoff, “If you get tetanus from whatever rusty blade he stabbed you with I’m not helping.”

Madara scowled at Hashirama, “You're an idiot.” 

The Senju gave a small rueful smile, “You’re going to have to be more specific Madara, there’s a lot of options for my idiocy at the moment.” 

“Hashirama, what happened.” Madara gestured around them at the battlefield fallout that had taken over the very centre of their village.

The Senju glanced at the ground, “The attack was earlier than anticipated.” 

“And…?” Tobirama prodded, tapping a finger on his crossed arms in irritation. 

Hashirama grimaced, “The Inuzuka gave them our patrol schedules and let them into the village, it was a trap all along.” 

“What did I tell you, moron!” Madara followed up his statement by slapping the back of Hashirama’s head with a force that made Kakashi wince.

“I know I know.” Hashirama whined, “It was a mistake. I was just so happy that another clan wanted to join us.” 

Madara sighed, “Your optimism will be the end of us Hashirama.” 

The Senju glanced away pained, “I know.”

Mito stepped forward from where she had hung back with Hikaku, “If I may Senju-sama, I have a few ideas on how to make this clearing more secure so those guarding it can help more people in the streets. There’s still many out there that need help escaping the village.” 

The Senju coughed in surprise, “Ah yes! Uzumaki-hime is it? Tobi told me you were coming; I can’t express how grateful we are for your support.” 

The redhead smiled tightly, “I am happy to give it, however, my supplies are much more suited to setting up a defence in advance rather than an active battle.” 

“May I see?” Tobirama asked, “I have some experience with sealing.” 

“What you did to appear in our camp earlier was very impressive, I’d be very interested in learning about it.” She responded, blinking violet eyes coolly at the Senju. 

Tobirama inclined his head, “Of course, we could exchange some information. The Senju pay their debts.”

Mito hummed approvingly, following the pale Senju across the clearing where she began to pull a few tiles out of her bag

Hashirama blinked in awe at where the two had walked off, “She got Tobi to actually give up information on his invented techniques. No one has ever managed that.” 

Kakashi smirked beneath his mask at the Senju’s reaction, his Konoha history knowledge may be lacking, but he knew about what lay in store for Mito and Hashirama.

Madara started to look antsy, eyes darting around the clearing to take account of all the Uchiha in eyesight, “Hashirama, where is my brother?” 

The Senju leader tore his eyes away from where the Uzumaki was activating a few glowing blue tiles, “I thought he was going to find you! Tobirama said he sensed you back in the village and he was off like a rocket.” 

The Uchiha glared at his friend, “You let my brother rush off in the middle of a chaotic battle?!” 

Hashirama grimaced, “I was a little busy Madara.”

Madara poked the Senju in the chest, “Who was that that managed to injure you, even I struggle to land a hit on you.”

Hashirama paled slightly, “I’ve never seen anything like it! It was like fighting a ghost. My attacks seemed to go right through him.” 

Madara crossed his arms, “Are you sure you didn’t just miss?” 

“Was a Hyuuga you were fighting?” Kakashi asked, perhaps Hashirama caught a glimpse of the man under the cloak he had been fighting.

Hashirama frowned, “No, that's the thing, it was one of the daimyo’s advisors, he had his seal embroidered on his robes, and he made sure I knew it. I didn’t know the Fire daimyo employed any shinobi in his court, but this was definitely a shinobi. And he knew things, he kept taunting me about things he had no business knowing about myself, Madara, and even you Kakashi-san.” 

Huh. 

Kakashi wondered if this advisor was behind the strange knowledge the daimyo’s brother also seemed to have about him. There was absolutely no reason for anyone of this time to know about him except if-

(There was something he was missing)

Madara cursed, “I have to find Izuna, I don't want him taking on this ghost on his own.”

Hashirama smiled weakly, “Be careful if you run into him Madara, he’s wickedly quick, I didn’t even see him move before he had just appeared.” 

Kakashi had a sick feeling that this mysterious shinobi was part of the reason so many things were going off-script. He couldn't have lost the plot all his own. Everything had gone wrong from the moment he arrived back in the past, he still didn’t know why he was here or how his presence was affecting the future. He just didn’t understand how it could all go so wrong so fast, he’s only been there a few weeks, how was Konoha already burning?

It couldn’t be all his fault. 

It couldn't. 

(He couldn’t be at fault for destroying his village before it even had the chance to be named.)

“Come on Hatake, we’re going to find my brother.” Madara’s smoke-rasped voice pulled him out of his rumination. 

He pulled at the blade strapped to his thigh, flipping it up to rest in his palm, “Just us? What if we run into the ‘ghost’?”

“No shinobi can stand against both my flames and my brothers combined, and from what I saw in the forest yours are pretty formidable too. We’ll be fine.” 

“Ah, that sounds dangerously close to a compliment Madara-chan.” 

“Shut up Hatake.”

Kakashi followed the scowling Uchiha out of the clearing, keeping to the alleyways as they made their way towards the Uchiha section of the village. He pushed up his headband as soon as they were out of the clearing, it was hard to see through the smoke and if there really was a dangerous enough shinobi to go toe to toe with Senju Hashirama, he wasn’t taking any chances. 

As they got further from where the lines of defence had been drawn the streets grew emptier, the buildings were more intact, and less smoke filled the air. Approaching the two houses the two Uchiha brothers called home Kakashi was surprised to see not a hint of flame in the set of buildings. 

“Izuna!” Madara yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.

A high-pitched chuckle came from the roof, causing both Madara and Kakashi to jerk their gazes to rest on the black-cloaked figure sitting lazily on top of the sloped tiles. The sun had just begun to peak over the horizon and the first rays of the day caught in the smoke and mist hanging in the air to outline the stranger in a soft glow.

This must be Hashirama’s ‘ghost’.

Kakashi watched him closely with the sharingan, the shinobi had a heavily cowled hood attached to the long dark cloak, casting his face completely in shadow, unable to be seen even with the sharingan. He also was indeed a representative of the daimyo, the stitched golden dragon-koi on the hems a clear symbol of the Land of Fire’s highest court. 

“I was wondering when you would show up Madara-sama!” The shinobi’s voice was oddly cheerful as he wiggled his fingers at the two figures standing tense in the street below.

“It’s good you know who I am,” Madara growled, “Cause then you already know I’ll tear you limb from limb if you lay a hand on my brother.” 

The cloaked figure burst into laughter, “That would make a change from things wouldn't it! I might take you up on that offer just for the novelty of it!”

The fierce expression on the Uchiha’s face wavered a bit at the other shinobi’s strange response, “Where’s my brother?”

The daimyo’s advisor tapped a finger dramatically on the side of his hood, “You really think I’ll tell you? That kinda ruins the whole point of a kidnapping plot, doesn't it?”

“Are you really so loyal to the daimyo that you would kidnap and betray your fellow shinobi for his interests?” Kakashi prodded, keeping a careful eye on the furious Uchiha beside him. 

“And what would you know about loyalty Kakashi?” The man turned his hooded head to look directly at Kakashi, an oddly sincere note in his voice. 

The jounin narrowed his eyes, “I know I would never just leave a comrade in peril as you seem to expect us to.” 

A high-pitched laughter echoed in the street and the man doubled over in exaggerated laughter, “That’s hilarious, do another! Do another!” 

Kakashi’s eyes widened, what was this guy's deal? 

“Ahh that was amusing,” The man straightened back to his full height, “If I had known you would be this funny I would have stopped by earlier, it's a pity I was so late, I’m always so so late.” 

(There was something he was missing) 

“This has been fun, but I really must be going,” The man lifted his hands to the cowl covering his face, sliding it down to reveal a swirl-patterned orange mask covering his face, “But it’s always nice to see old friends.”

Kakashi’s breath stopped. 

Through the one eye hole in the full-face mask, a spinning red eye stared back at him, an eye he had seen before. 

One he knew as well as his own eye. 

It had replaced one of his own after all. 

“Isn’t that right, Kakashi-teme?” Uchiha Obito asked cheerfully from his perch atop the roof. 

Kakashi’s world shattered.

Notes:

ha ha ha pls don't kill me??? Things will get better I promise, things just gotta get a little worse first... (and i had the nerve to tag this founding of konoha)

Also that seen with Madara seeing Kakashi's sharingan has been planned for a while, one of the first little nibbles of an idea when I was first brainstorming this idea.

I get a real kick out of imagining what sort of crazy jutsus characters could possibly use, there's just so many options and it's kinda hard to translate the over the top massive displays of power that come across in the anime, but I tried my best in this one. Pyromanic Madara anyone?

I really love Izuna, I feel bad for not writing him in that much of part one, but rest assured, the second half of this story will have much more Izuna.
No need to worry. really. i promise. he's fine. totally fine.

my tumblr: sofiee
_______

Kakashi: *uncovers sharingan*
Madara: Holy shit so pretty lemme touch
Kakashi: wat, you mean you don't want to tear it out??
Madara: what are you talking about, no no too pretty, shush hatake
Kakashi: *tears up* WHY WON'T YOU JUST SAY MY NAME
Mito: what is my life

 

Chapter 14: In which things continue to go wrong

Notes:

HAHA ok im so sorry for missing an update last week, I moved flats and my new router wasn't connected to wifi until this morning.

But, here's a longg chapter to make up for it.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Madara wasn’t breathing quite right. 

Air came in halting gasps that he couldn't quite control, and it felt like a vice was cinching tighter and tighter making those uneven bursts of air smaller and smaller. 

His brother was missing. 

Kidnapped, if this masked stranger was to be believed. 

That was not acceptable.  

It didn’t help that there was something wrong with Kakashi. His companion was somehow even paler than normal, his arms hung limp at his sides, and both red and grey eyes alike were staring at the orange-masked shinobi that had just called his name. 

They knew each other, and by the looks of it, whatever history they had had managed to completely shatter the silver-haired shinobi’s careful facade. 

Madara wasn’t panicking.

He wasn’t. Not at all. 

His brother, his reason for this whole endeavour, was missing and in the hands of an unknown party. Madara would burn everything before he let anything happen to him, and he would make anyone who touched a hair on his little brother's body regret being born.

(Gods where was Izuna where was his brother his last brother )

But to find his brother, he had to deal with this strange shinobi who had done something to Kakashi.

“Hatake!” He hissed, jabbing at his companion with an elbow.

Kakashi’s eyes didn’t budge from being locked onto the daimyo’s advisor and he gave no sign of having even felt Madara’s sharp jab. The Uchiha snarled slightly in frustration, glaring sideways to try and catch the silver-haired shinobi's haunted gaze. Despite the severity of the situation, he couldn't help the jolt in his stomach every time he caught sight of the sharingan in his face. He knew an outsider shouldn't have one, but... but seeing it on Kakashi made Madara question a lot of things. He wanted to touch it again, he wanted to trace the lines of his scar, he wanted. 

And that was a terrifying thought.

“Aww are you concerned about him, Madara-sama?” The stranger tilted his odd orange mask towards the Uchiha, noticing that Madara’s glare had faded into something slightly softer, “That’s adorable.”

Madara bared his teeth at the black-cloaked man, “Where is my brother ?”

“Ah, it’d be so boring just to tell you,” The shinobi scuffed his shoe on the roof, “I don’t like boring things, Madara...” 

“Sorry to disappoint,” He narrowed his eyes at the man, sharingan spinning into existence, “I wouldn't want the daimyo’s advisor to feel anything was amiss with our hospitality.”

“Ooo that's better!” The masked shinobi clapped his hands together excitedly, “The fight against the Shodaime was so boring earlier. Perhaps you can live up to my expectations.”

The Shodaime? The first what

Madara shook his head, it didn’t matter. If this idiot wanted a fight, then Madara would give him one. 

He shifted forward in front of Kakashi, Madara would be damned if he was going to let this stranger hurt another person under his protection.

(Since when did he consider Kakashi under his protection? That was yet another alarming thought to revisit at a later date.)

He held his tanto loose at his side and sank into a ready crouch, sharingan carefully watching the enemy, ready to spring at the first sign of movement. 

The mask tilted forward, allowing Madara to see the red sharingan peering out of it. He inhaled sharply, “You’re-”

(He had a sharingan, one sharingan, he knew Kakashi and had one sharingan

“You have no idea who I am. But don’t worry, I know you Madara-sama. Allow me to introduce myself.” The masked shinobi chirped, false cheer dripping from his voice like honey.

Madara let a little more chakra flow to his eyes, vision sharpening so much it was almost painful. He could see every slightest bit of motion the other man was making. He would not make the mistake of underestimating the shinobi who had gone toe to toe with Hashirama.

There wasn’t even a twitch before the man was simply gone.

Now Madara was accustomed to enemies moving fast, but this wasn’t speed. The masked figure hadn’t just moved quickly, he hadn’t moved at all. He had simply been there once moment, and then not the next.

Madara looked around frantically, he couldn't have just disappeared, maybe he was concealing himself somehow, some sort of advanced genjutsu perhaps. 

He sucked in a gasp as a fist was suddenly planted in his stomach, the form of the enemy materialising in front of him instantaneously, leaving no time for Madara to catch the movement. He allowed himself to move with the impact and managed to land a few steps behind where he had started.

(If it wasn’t speed, what was it? Something similar to what Tobirama used with his little seals? Some form of teleportation?)

He quickly ran through the very few things he knew about the stranger, he was obviously very strong, judging by the way Madara’s stomach throbbed, and he used some form of teleportation to fight Uchiha in a way that did away with the predictive prowess of their sharingan.

This was not going to be easy. 

If Kakashi wasn’t doing his best impression of a statue right now he might have a better chance, but with a glance towards his companion, Madara confirmed the man was still as stone, following their fight with horror evident in his eyes.

Madara cursed, returning his attention to the daimyo’s advisor. The man knew how to fight Uchiha, he wouldn't have managed to capture Izuna otherwise, so Madara had to do something unexpected to have a chance. 

He pulled out a few of the seals he’d taken from the Uzumaki, flinging them to the sides of the cloaked figure. They exploded in a loud burst of fire and smoke, so loud that Madara’s ears rang after. He hoped that this might flag down the Senju or Mito if they heard it. 

Through the billows of smoke, the advisor stepped into view, brushing a bit of soot off his ostentatiously golden embroidered hems, “Uzumaki seals, a nice touch.”

The Uchiha scowled, he thought the exploding tags would have done at least something . Mito had assured him those seals produced enough concussive force to knock out most shinobi when used in close proximity. So either the stranger was stronger than expected or still had some tricks up his sleeve. 

Or both, a particularly pessimistic part of him whispered.

Either way, he had a backup plan.

Madara crossed his arms across his chest arrogantly and barked out a sharp laugh, “You have some nerve to attack the head of the Uchiha clan like this, bastard.

The mask tilts sideways eerily, “Is that what he told you I was?” He chuckles, “You should really choose who you trust more carefully Madara-sama, I’m actually looking out for the Uchiha you know.” 

“You burned our village and you claim to be acting in our interests?” Madara asked incredulously, tapping a finger impatiently on his arm. He risked another glance at Kakashi, who at least was a little more present and seemed to be blinking at the masked shinobi in painful disbelief.

“There is so much you don’t know Madara-sama, you’ll see in due time.” The advisor intoned slowly, as if talking to a child.

“Forgive me if I don’t welcome you into the clan with welcome arms,” The clan leader sneered, “We have very little tolerance for blood traitors.” 

“All this talking is boring, what happened to that fight Madara-sama?” The cloaked figure whined.

Madara smirked, “But of course.” 

A quick burst of his chakra released the binding seals on either side of the figure that he had disguised underneath the exploding seals. In the time Madara had stalled his enemy they had anchored themselves to the earth and at the flare of his chakra glowing blue lines spread like a spiderweb between them, creating a grid of powerful chakra guaranteed to keep anything inside its bounds. 

Madara was not stupid, and he knew the value of a bit of trickery, he had lived with Izuna for the majority of his life after all.

He dashed forward, swinging his tanto in a wide ark downward as he leapt into the air above the sealed space. He grinned as the sharp edge of his blade whirled towards the man’s shoulder, there was no way he could avoid a strike in such an enclosed space. 

However instead of the satisfying force of his blade meeting flesh that he was expecting, his blade whooshed through the figure as if he was made of air, causing Madara to stumble forward without the expected pressure. He shook off his brief moment of shock and surprise and regained his balance to whip the tanto back in an upward slash at the man's side.

The same odd sensation of impacting nothing accompanied Madara’s swing, he questioned his sanity. He was sure he was hitting him; his aim was impeccable! 

Perhaps this was what Hashirama had meant when he described him as a ghost.

“Very clever, though you would do better with chakra-suppressing seals.” The ‘ghost’ tilted his mask mockingly, “Really, you would think someone would have figured it out by now.” 

Madara snarled, hands dropping his tanto to fly through the seals to make a grand fireball, if his blade couldn't hurt him he would roast him.

The heat radiated back onto his face as he bathed the area in bright white-hot flames. 

A finger tapped on his shoulder, causing Madara to whirl around in shock, cutting off his fireball into a sputter of weak flame. His eyes widened at seeing the looming masked face of the bastard Uchiha right behind him.

“Really should have gone with those repressive seals Madara-sama, really I recalled you being much cleverer...” He dragged a finger down under his eye mockingly, imitating a tear.

“How-” Madara started, Mito had assured those seals prevented anyone bound in them from moving across their boundary! 

He was cut off with a fist to the face, causing his head to snap to the side painfully. Spitting out a glob of bloody saliva into the dirt below, he growled in frustration. 

This bastard had taken his brother and then had the gall to taunt him over his fighting. 

He was so tired

All he had wanted was to sit by the koi pond with his friend and his brother. He supposed he wouldn't mind if Kakashi were there too.

But that wasn’t what had happened. Instead, he had to deal with a power-hungry daimyo and his minion who seemed to be able to fight circles around some of the strongest shinobi in the world. 

Was peace really such an unachievable dream?

He threw himself forward at the cloaked shinobi. Uchiha Madara did not give up just because he got thrown around a bit. 

He ducked a punch and lashed out with a kick, as it phased through the ‘ghost’ he anticipated it and whipped his elbow towards his opponent’s head using his momentum from the kick to carry speed. When that too phased through, he flew into a flurry of fists and kicks, trying in vain to hit the enemy. 

He shouted in irritation as nothing connected.

The masked advisor tutted, “This is somehow even more disappointing than the Senju.” 

Madara felt a shiver go down his spine. There was something so off about this new enemy. 

He was full of oddities, Madara supposed, not unlike Kakashi, but somehow infinitely more foreboding than the silver-haired shinobi had managed to be. Even when ripping a hole in the chest of another man Madara couldn’t recall being as disconcerted by Kakashi as he was with the shinobi he faced now.

“Ah well, I suppose you don’t really care about your brother after all then!” The shinobi taunted in a singsong manner. 

Madara felt blood pool in his hands from how hard his fingernails were digging into his palms, “You want an interesting fight huh?”

He let his mangekyou spin into existence, a dull throbbing pain accompanying their appearance. He immediately began layering genjutsus over the street, ones to confuse, to put off balance, to amplify killing intent, and one particularly insidious one his brother had taught him to make it feel like spiders were constantly crawling over your skin. With the power of his advanced dojutsu, it was so simple to weave the illusions and slip them into the outermost layers of his enemies’ consciousness. 

“Much better Madara-sama,” The infuriating enemy cackled, “It’s been a while since I've felt that particular genjutsu, I could never get the feeling of the spider legs just right.”

Madara narrowed his eyes, his brother invented that genjutsu. The only ones alive who knew how to use it were Izuna and himself. Did this advisor know his brother somehow? He knew he had certainly never used it on the man before himself. 

It didn’t matter, he decided, the man wouldn't be alive long enough for it to.

Just as Madara gathered up the chakra for an attack the enemy shinobi stilled from where he was bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement and sighed deeply “Ah. It appears it’s almost time to go. Those seals were tricky tricky Madara-sama, and I’m sure your Senju friends are already on their way.”

The clan leader smiled viciously and he opened his mouth to taunt before he suddenly found himself flying backwards, the masked shinobi blinking into the space directly in front of him spinning a roundhouse kick that caught him directly in the chest. He hit the ground hard, skidding on his back down the dusty road. He tensed his muscles to spring back up, only to freeze at the feeling of cold steel at his throat. 

He swallowed shallowly, feeling the sharp edge scrape his Adam's apple.

“So disappointing, just when things were getting interesting too...” His attacker drawled, sinking into a crouch over Madara's prone form, poking at his neck slightly with the sharp point of the blade he seemed to have pulled from nowhere. The Uchiha winced as the swallow nicks welled up with blood, stinging points that were more painful to his ego than anything else. 

The man sank closer, pushing his orange mask much too close to Madara’s face, “I would kill you, you know. But I can’t. I still have so much to thank you for.” 

Up close, Madara could see the calculating red eye clearly shining through the hole in the other’s mask, rather than the sharingan he expected, a pinwheeled mangekyou peered back at him. He inhaled sharply, causing the point of the blade to dig in a little further to the soft flesh of his neck.

That could be part of the explanation behind the shinobi’s rampant power.

“Who are you?” Madara hissed, even if he was a bastard he was certain he would have heard about a mangekyou-wielding shinobi of this calibre before.

The man hummed, “You should really ask Kakashi, he just loves to talk about his past.” 

The Uchiha clan leader inched his fingers closer to his pocket, he had an extra kunai in there if he could just- 

The cool blade against his throat suddenly vanished, as did the shinobi hovering above him, with Kakashi’s fist flying through the air where the cloaked shinobi had vanished from.

Madara definitely did not let out a small sigh of relief at seeing him, “You alright?” 

A noncommittal hum in response as Kakashi pulled the Uchiha to his feet.

Madara would take it, anything was better than the absolutely shattered look the man had had earlier. 

“Move!” 

Kakashi’s shout had him springing backwards as the masked shinobi reappeared bringing his foot down in a vicious crushing motion that cracked the ground where Madara had just been. 

“This was just supposed to be Madara-sama and me, so naughty Kakashi.” The masked man had a strange, honeyed cheerfulness to his words as if he really was talking to an old friend.

“O-Obito,” The name was choked out of Kakashi’s lips, every syllable sounded pained, like metal pins dragging out of his throat.

The mask tilted sideways, “You can call me that if you wish, but I’m known as Tobi here.”

He jumped back up onto the roof he had first appeared from, “I would really love to stay and chat Kakashi, we have so much to catch up on after, but I do have a bit of torture and coercion to practice on your dear Madara’s brother.”

Madara felt his heart jolt in his chest as he lurched forward, only held back by Kakashi’s hand landing on his shoulder.

“Why- How are you here Obito?” A strangely vulnerable note could be heard in what could only be described as a plea by the silver-haired nin.

The man chuckled, somehow much deeper than his voice had been, “Oh Kakashi, there’s so many ways I could answer that. But I’m sure you’ll figure it out, you’ve always been so clever.” 

Kakashi took a rough inhale of smoky air, “I don’t understand, you brought me here?”

“Well of course, I’m shocked you didn’t see through the genjutsu, I thought you were meant to be elite, instead you followed a poor old man deep into the woods…” The man on the roof drawled, shaking his head in dramatic disappointment.

“You were dead!” Kakashi’s eyes were wide and his grip on Madara’s shoulder was growing tighter by the second.

The clearing became icy cold in an instant, killing intent pouring out of the black-cloaked figure “And do you know what one of the first things I saw when I became not dead?” 

Madara heard a familiar voice shouting, coming closer and closer. He let out a small sound of relief, the Senju really were coming

Tobi seemed to hear them too, looking down over the street behind them, “and that would be my cue to leave.” 

Kakashi growled, a surge of warm chakra that cut through the icy cold surrounding Madara causing him to snap his head towards the silver-haired shinobi to catch that distracting red-eye spin into an even more distracting pinwheel.

He had a mangekyou. The same mangekyou as Tobi.

“Ooo there it is, you’ve already answered my question! Knew you were clever! Though I suppose I should really thank you for helping to awaken my power, none of this would have happened without you after all.” Tobi cackled, reeling in his icy aura in a blink before wiggling his fingers at them in a mock wave, “Bye-bye now! I’ll be seeing you Kakashi-teme!” 

Kakashi released Madara and lurched forward, only to stop when Tobi blinked out of existence just in time for Hashirama, Tobirama, and Mito to come skidding around the corner into view. 

“Madara!” Hashirama called, “The ghost! We heard the explosion and Tobirama said he felt the ghosts' chakra! Are you ok? Where’s Izuna?”

Both Madara and Kakashi were staring at where Tobi had vanished. Madara’s eyes throbbed, how had he been so utterly outclassed by a shinobi he’d never even heard of before? 

“Madara?” Hashirama called his name again, a note of desperation tainting his voice. 

He blinked hard, letting the mangekyou fade away to the more tolerable sharingan, “Gone. They’re both gone. He took my brother.”

Hashirama inhaled sharply, “Oh Madara, I’m sorry...”

Tobirama narrowed his eyes, “He managed to take Izuna? Were you not able to stop him?”

Madara spun to face the albino, hissing his answer, “Does it look like I managed to stop him Senju?”

Tobirama snorted a disdainful breath, “Well it certainly felt like you were using enough chakra to, it felt like double the amount you usually do when having your little red-eyed moments, gave me a migraine.” 

Mito tilted her head, eyes stalling on Kakashi still facing away towards where Tobi had vanished, “Kakashi? Are you alright?”

The two Senju raised their brows in surprise as Kakashi turned to face them, mangekyou shining out from his face. 

“Ah.” Tobirama grunted, “I suppose I have you to thank for my headache then.” 

“Tobi,” Hashirama cautioned, “Perhaps your headache isn’t the priority here.” 

Madara noticed Kakashi’s full body flinch at the Senju’s nickname for his brother.

Mito bit her lip in contemplation, “We couldn’t hold the clearing. The Hyuuga and Inuzuka had backup from the Aburame. We need a plan.” 

Madara cursed under his breath, this wasn’t good. 

Hasiirama sighed in agreement, “We sent Touka to take those who can’t fight to take refuge with the Nara, we’ll have to sell a few secrets to them, but they won’t turn away non-combatants. Hikaku took the rest of the fighting force out through the caves at the far side of the cliffs, the old Senju compound has powerful protections. They’ll be safe enough there for now.”

Mito narrowed her eyes, “More powerful protections than we had here?”

He grimaced, “No, but the attacking force doesn't know they’re heading there, and it’ll take them time to mobilise again, it'll’ buy them some time for us to figure something out.”

“That’s a stupid plan Hashirama,” Madara hissed, “We can’t afford to be splitting up our forces right now, they could wipe us out!” 

“It’s not ideal,” The Senju admitted, “But it’s all we got at the moment, we need to get out, regroup, and reassess what we know about our enemy. We were outclassed today. Which is not something I’m used to.”

A shout rang out down the street, a group of Hyuuga and Aburame rounding the corner.

“Go!” Mito shouted, hands flying through seals as she spun around, ending in a boar seal that sent a whirlwind flying towards their pursuers. 

Hashirama stared a bit wide-eyed as the Uzumaki sent four full-grown Hyuuga shinobi flying backwards.

She glanced behind her, “What are you still doing here? Get to the cliffs!” 

“Come on!” Tobirama grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him away from where he was still staring at the Uzumaki.

Madara scrambled after them with a curse, making sure to grab the still-silent Kakashi by the wrist and pull him along. Dashing through the village, they made quick progress to the cliffs and using his slightly dwindling chakra reserves, he scurried up to the ledge he had arrived not that long ago. Reaching the top, he released Kakashi and spun to peer back down the cliff towards where Mito was whipping up a maelstrom halfway down, pulling in wisps of smoke and fog from the air and spinning it into a whirling barrier that ripped any pursuers right off the cliff face even as she rushed up the cliff after them. 

The Uchiha looked further across the village, plumes of smoke rising in the delicate yellows and pinks of dawn in what could have looked idyllic if not for what he knew had happened there. Birds were starting to chirp in the branches of the trees, cheerful songs that sang nothing of the turmoil whirling inside of the small group panting at the roots.

Madara’s hands shook as he wiped some of the ash off his brow, eyes taking in the full extent of the damage in the light of the rising sun. Hashirama came to stand next to him, his tan face still and serious.

“Do you think that dreams can ever truly become a reality?” Madara murmured, eyes finding the collapsed tower that had housed the beginnings of their village governance. 

“I...” Hashirama paused, looking down with pain in his eyes, “I always want to think there’s hope.”

“I’m not so sure,” The Uchiha continued, “I think some dreams may be meant to stay just that.” 

“Madara...” The Senju trailed off. 

The Uchiha looked away, not wanting to meet Hashirama’s eyes. He wasn’t sure he could hold it together if he saw the Senju’s devastation on top of his own. His gaze fell onto a certain silver-haired nuisance sitting on a rock staring into space, blood dripping slowly down his face under the still sluggishly spinning mangekyou.

He frowned, that wasn’t healthy. Even for Uchiha bloody tears were a sign of overuse, it was extremely damaging to their chakra. He couldn't imagine it was good at all for a shinobi who didn’t have the specially adapted channels that his clan did to handle the corrosive use of the dojutsu.

“Hatake,” He walked closer and sank into a squat in front of the blank-eyed shinobi, “You gotta deactivate your mangekyou.” 

A slow blink was all the response he got. 

Madara sighed, “At least cover it with that headband you have, less input should hurt less.” 

Another blink. 

Madara pursed his lips, a sharper tone than he intended coming out of his mouth this time, “Hatake, we’re in a bit of a difficult situation here. We need everyone at their best, not fucking bleeding from their eye.”

“Not my eye,” Came the response, almost so soft Madara didn’t hear it.

The Uchiha grimaced, “Well we’ve established that, but it’s still attached to your chakra, isn’t it?” 

Kakashi’s eyes came back into focus a little more, peering slightly down at Madara, “What are you doing.”

“I just told you, we need everyone at their strongest.”

“I mean the fact that you’re touching me.”

Oh. 

He was. 

Again.

Madara jerked his thumb back from where it was wiping the blood from under Kakashi’s eye. He hadn’t even realised he was doing that.   

Why was he doing that? 

He felt a mortified flush spread across his cheeks as he stammered an apology. This had to stop happening. His flush deepened as he took a moment to examine the troublesome shinobi looking back at him with a strange glint in his eyes.

Even with the thick blood still clinging to his lower lashes, Kakashi looked striking. The pinwheeled mangekyou just accentuated the strange draw Madara felt. The mangekyou was equal parts revered and feared by his clan, but to have such a sought-after dojutsu in the grasp of an outsider was a situation he’d never found himself in. Staring into a dojutsu that could as easily kill him as he had killed so many with it was dangerous, but Madara couldn't not stare at its odd beauty. Just as when Madara first saw Kakashi’s sharingan he was struck with the odd impulse to never look away, as if he did it would be gone, hidden behind cloth again. 

(He didn’t want it to be hidden) 

(He wanted everyone to see the claim the Uchiha had on him)

He should be disgusted, offended, and angry on behalf of his clan. But he wasn’t. 

Instead, he was fascinated, drawn in, almost intoxicated on how right the Uchiha feature looked set into Kakashi’s face. He wondered how other Uchiha colours would look on him, if he draped Kakashi in the Uchiwa would it provoke this same hunger? 

He cleared his throat, “You need to cover that eye, you must be facing chakra exhaustion having it open for so long.” 

Hatake's lips turned up into the faintest attempt at a smile Madara had seen, barely visible at all through the fabric of his mask, “Your concern is touching.” 

“Yeah well...” He trailed off awkwardly, ruffling the back of his hair in an effort to distract his traitor hand.

Kakashi huffed a weak half-laugh and let the mangekyou fade before sliding the fabric resting on his forehead back over his eye. 

Madara looked away, discomforted by the feelings associated with Kakashi that kept welling up without his permission. 

Hashirama drew himself away from the cliffside, running his hand through his hair in distress, “We have to leave, they’re trying to drive us off.”

“And go where?” Mito raised a brow in question, “You’ve done quite a good job at making enemies in a lot of places.”

Madara scowled, “You had just as much to do with why we can’t go to the Uzumaki as we do.” 

She gave him a grin that was a bit too forced to be anything other than a grimace, “Madara, I think the Uzumaki are the least of your enemies at the moment.” 

He glanced around the clearing, beside Mito, Hashirama was chewing his lip in worry, Tobirama was glaring down at the shinobi still trying to penetrate Mito’s barrier with a poisonous snarl pulling his lips back, and Kakashi was still sitting on his rock, leaning back on one hand in a pose that could have looked relaxed if Madara couldn't see the sheer fatigue in the dark grey depths of his one visible eye. 

Nobody said anything for a moment, allowing the rustle of the leaves and chirping of birds to fill the air with cheerful noise unbefitting the blood and ash that dripped off the exhausted nin.

After another beat, Hashirama sighed, “This is pathetic. We are the greatest shinobi of our generation. We can fix this.”

Madara had his doubts. 

Tobirama stalked over to them, finally dragging himself away from the cliff edge, “That barrier isn’t going to hold much longer, we have to move.” 

“We have to find Izuna.” Madara asserted, “I don’t care about anything other than finding my brother.” 

The paler of the Senju raised a lip at him, “Like your brother cared so much about you? He didn’t answer the door for you for weeks.”  

Madara dug his fingernails into his palm, painfully digging into the semi-circular wounds left from earlier, “Say one more thing about my brother and see what happens Senju bastard!” 

Hashirama cuffed his brother on the back of the head, “Tobirama, his brother is kidnapped, be respectful.” 

The albino huffed in distaste but said nothing else. 

Madara felt sick. 

He was tired, worried sick about his brother, and devastated by the outcome of this battle. He was furious at the daimyo and his bastard advisor; this was all their fault .

“Come on,” Kakashi heaved himself off the rock, wobbling concerningly for a moment before padding towards the forest, “We all need to rest, there’s some caves an hour's travel from here, they’re hidden, no one can find us there. We can rest and regroup. 

The silver-haired shinobi looked back to catch Madara’s eye, “We can make a plan to get Izuna back and take back our village, together.” 

The others vanished toward the trees, while Madara took one last chance to gaze out over the village. Even with the plumes of smoke and the ruins of buildings poking through the trees below, the village was still beautiful. 

A leaf drifted down from above him, fluttering back and forth in the morning breeze until it landed in his outstretched hand. It was a large leaf, Oak, the Uchiha thought, though identifying tree types wasn’t exactly Madara’s area of expertise. It was perfectly shaped, brilliantly green, almost a perfect leaf really, if it wasn’t for the large hole in its upper left quadrant. Madara raised it to his eye, taken by an odd impulse, and looked through the leaf. 

The village looked exactly the same.

He dropped the leaf with a sigh, letting it drift down to fall on the rocky ground. He turned his back on the village and started to stride towards the trees to join the others. Kakashi was waiting at the tree line, looking at him expectantly. 

“What was that?” He questioned, motioning towards the leaf Madara had dropped. 

The Uchiha shrugged, “Part of the reason for building the village here was that Hashirama and I thought the forest would hide the village, the leaves becoming a natural disguise. I wanted to see if leaves actually would have hidden our village.”

Kakashi tilted his head, “Did you ever decide on a name?” 

“Hashirama asked me to think about it,” Madara said with a bittersweet smile, “I was going to suggest the Village Hidden in the Leaves. I wanted to call it Konohagakure.” 

Kakashi looked troubled but said nothing else before turning to follow their companions into the forest.

Madara took another glance over his shoulder. He wondered again if peace would ever be possible. While they may have stopped fighting the Senju, other clans had just popped up in their place.

It was painful to admit that perhaps Hashirama and himself were just as idealistic as their brothers always called them.

But Madara would never complain about Izuna’s nagging ever again.

He would get his brother back.

And he would make whoever was behind this pay.



Notes:

soooo this the end of part one 😮😮genuinely didn't know if i would make it to this point so i just want to say a big big thank you to everyone that's supported this story. I'm unbelievably grateful that so many people are reading my writing and enjoying it. It's a very strange experience but a very welcome one.
So thank you 💛💛
(and i hope you stick around for the rest of what i have planned!)

Poor Kakashi is just getting kicked left right and centre isn't he... he might have done a lot of horrified staring in this chapter but to be fair, that is a ~lot~ of trauma. But don't worry, in typical kakashi fashion he'll be repressing it all and be back to making jokes in no time.
(Honestly how has no one decided to make therapy a priority in the naruto-verse??? #giveshinobitherapy)

Next bit is mostly written already, thank you no internet for actually making me productive, so ill try and have that up in the next few days.

Also don't you love that Izuna has been tagged as a major character but hasn't done really anything yet? haha yeah that's about to change. Sorta. Well. You'll see.

_________
Obito:*exists*
Madara: HOW IS HE BEATING ME UP
Obito: *trained by both minato and madara* No reason
Kakashi: *nodding sagely*

Madara: I don't ~do~ feelings
Also Madara: This one is mine now, if anyone touchs a hair on his precious head ill dismember them

Mito: *being a badass*
Hashirama: Could I ever be that cool?
Tobirama: no
Hashirama: *wilts* I know...

Chapter 15: Izuna's Interlude

Notes:

Some of you have been very concerned about Izuna, so here's this to assure you he is perfectly fine. 🙂🙂

 

CW//brief torture
(wow i'm really not helping my case with that one am i...)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Izuna had been angry for a very long time. 

He couldn't remember a time when he wasn’t.

He had been angry at his father for prioritising Madara over him during training. 

Later, he had been angry at his father for not prioritising his brother more

(Especially when neither of them was enough to protect their other siblings.)

He was most angry at the Senju, for all the lives they’d taken from his clan, and the vibrance it sapped out of those still alive that he loved.

And though he tried not to be, he was also angry at Madara. 

Izuna loved his brother more than most things in the world. Madara had always been there when Izuna wasn’t strong enough, when Izuna couldn't go on, and when Izuna needed to break, his older brother had always been there to pick up the pieces and put him back together. 

Izuna wasn’t sure what life would be like without his brother. He wasn’t sure if that was a life he wanted to live. 

But he also thought his brother was an idiot. 

An idiot who saw the possibility of peace through the lens of a child with a dream. 

Izuna was not so naive. He was a realist.

He knew peace was impossible. For the ordinary members of the clan who would have to live next to the murderers of their children, he hated that the daimyo’s brother had been right on the money with that one, and the outside forces that would never let such a powerhouse of a village form. 

And of course, he thought peace with the Senju of all clans was particularly stupid. They were untrustworthy fools and Izuna would never place his life in their hands.

Madara saw an ideal, a narrow vision of the future. Izuna saw everything else lurking on the periphery waiting to tear his brother's dreams to shreds. 

He did his best to discourage Madara whenever he could, reminding him of everything they had lost and all they still had to lose. He felt horrible every time the light of hope in his brother's eyes faded a bit more, but he knew what he had to do. 

Madara still had a childlike hope that Izuna didn’t, and he would do everything in his power to keep the world from crushing it completely. If suffocating that flame a little bit rather than stoking it was what it took to protect his brother, that's what he would do.

Izuna loved his brother, and he loved his clan. He had nothing else in the world besides them and his anger.

So, when Hatake Kakashi brought the wrath of the daimyo upon them, inadvertently bringing the two clans closer to peace than they had ever been, Izuna was a bit lost on what to do. 

He could go along with Madara and Hashirama’s hair-brained peace plan and undo his years of hard work against it, or he could put both his brother and clan at risk of withstanding the daimyo's anger on their own. 

Izuna was an angry person, he’d freely admit that, but he wasn’t stupid .

In the end, it really wasn’t much of a choice.

All he wanted was for his brother to be happy and for his clan to survive, if cooperating with the Senju was what it took then Izuna would express his displeasure, and then go along with it. He would do anything for the sake of Madara and the Uchiha.

Even if it meant placing a tiny bit of faith in those he hated so absolutely. 

(Gods how could Madara expect him to work with those who had murdered his siblings, his poor baby siblings)

But he would.

For the one sibling he still had left.

So, when he had heard the first screams echoing through the streets he was already running through the streets looking for an enemy to slice up. 

His brother wasn’t here, so it was his duty as the heir to protect the Uchiha. 

He wasn’t afraid of the Hyuuga and the Inuzuka had been laughable, though he tried very hard not to actually hurt their animal companions too badly. He really did love dogs. 

It was when he had run off to find his brother after the Senju had finally bothered to tell him that things had started to go wrong, and then they just got worse

Someone had gotten the jump on him the moment he had turned down a more isolated street and all he could remember was seeing a bright orange mask with something peering out of it that looked eerily like a sharingan before everything had gone dark.

That was the first thing he noticed when he blinked awake as well. 

It was very dark. 

That and the fact that when he went to rub at the crust he could feel around his eyes, his hand wasn’t cooperating. 

“You’re awake!” A cheerful voice called through the darkness, “I’m so glad, I was getting a bit afraid the genjutsu had kept you under a bit more than intended.” 

“Wha-!” Izuna jerked forwards, hissing in pain as whatever was restraining him dug into his wrists, and to his dismay, his ankles as well.

“Oo don’t do that Izuna-kun! You’ll get hurt!” 

“Release me now and maybe I’ll grant you a quick death,” Izuna hissed, trying to peer into the darkness. 

He tried to channel chakra into his eyes to activate his sharingan, even tied down with the power of his dojutsu he was never completely defenceless. He gave a pained cry when instead of the rush of chakra he expected an intense pain rose sharply in his body, burning up through his veins like white hot needles stabbing and burrowing deep into his flesh.

Or in more concise terms, it hurt

A lot.

“Ah I did just say not to hurt yourself, didn’t I?” The voice tutted, “I suppose it’s better to know about the chakra suppressants now rather than later though when I’m not here to help. It won’t stop on its own, you know.” 

Izuna jerked in his restraints as what felt like molten metal continued to scorch through his veins. His eyes felt like someone had taken a white-hot poker to them and he could practically hear his chakra coils moaning in pain.

Or was that him, he couldn't quite tell.

“It’s a rather ingenious seal, it latches onto the chakra you try to summon and turns it against its user, it can even do permanent damage to your coils if left unattended for too long.” The voice continued softly, “But don’t you worry Izuna-kun, I’m here to help!”

A cool hand brushed against his forehead, quieting his involuntary whimpers as the pain faded to nothing. Izuna twitched away from the hand as soon as he was capable of rational thought, swallowing harshly. 

That was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. 

The hand returned to his head, roughly carding through his hair, “Ah Izuna, you don’t have to pull away, we’re going to be great friends.”

He shivered, “W-who the hell are you?” 

“You can call me Tobi,” The man hummed, “and I have some questions for you!”

“Go to hell! I’m not telling you anything!” Izuna snarled, trying in vain to pull away from the hand still pulling through his hair. 

Tobi gave a high-pitched chuckle, “Oh it’s nothing that important Izuna-kun, can I call you Izuna-kun? You know technically you are my junior, you ought to show me a bit more respect.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He spat, wiggling a wrist in the tight band holding him upright against what felt like a table of some sort.

Tobi sighed, “How can the Uchiha see so well and yet be so blind.”

Izuna felt the air shift around him as the hand trailed down from being tangled in his hair to cupping his cheek instead. 

Look.” 

Izuna’s eyes widened as through the dark, a single red orb spun into view. 

“You’re an Uchiha,” He breathed, “Why would you do this to me?”

Tobi hummed, finally taking his hand away from Izuna to clap in mocking celebration “Ding ding! I am an Uchiha, but not one you would know.” 

“I know all the Uchiha,” Izuna growled. 

“Well obviously not,” The pout was audible in his voice, an odd contrast to the intimidating sharingan that appeared to be hovering in mid-air to Izuna’s unenhanced vision.

Izuna racked his brain for an explanation, perhaps he wasn’t an Uchiha and simply someone who had stolen a sharingan, it would certainly explain why he only had one and not the full set. 

“I don’t believe you.” Izuna bit out, it’s not like he had any reason to believe the person who had kidnapped him. 

Tobi cackled, “Well it’s a good thing it doesn't really matter what you believe then is it, you know you are the one being held captive right now.”

Izuna balled his hands into fists, “What do you think you have to gain from this? You must know that my brother is going to hunt you down and feed your intestines to you for laying a finger on me.” 

“Oo that would be fun wouldn’t it!” Tobi laughed gleefully, leaving Izuna baulking in confusion. No one had ever brushed off his older brother's wrath like this strange not-Uchiha was.

The giggles trailed off as his captor sobered quickly, “Now, my questions. Izuna-kun, do you love your clan?” 

Izuna furrowed his brow in confusion, “What kind of question is that? Shouldn’t you be prying for clan secrets?”

More giggles echoed throughout the room, “Why would I pry for secrets I already know? I know everything the Uchiha could ever and will ever know. Answer the questions Izuna-kun, I wouldn’t want to have to activate the seals again...”

Izuna shivered in memory of the fire coursing through his veins, “Of course, I love my clan, and these inane questions aren’t going to change that.” 

“Oh, I would never want to change that,” Tobi continues, honeyed sweetness coating his words, “I think it’s admirable how much you love your clan, I love them too.” 

“You don’t even know them,” Izuna hissed back. Who was this Tobi to speak of his clan like this?

Tobi merely laughed, the air shifting around him again. Izuna felt the man settle behind him, leaning close over his shoulder so that Izuna could feel his breath on his ear. It was sickly sweet and Izuna wrinkled his nose, sweet in the rotten way his apples got when he left them out too long. It was wrong for a human to smell like that.

“Izuna-kun, what do you think of the Senju?”

The heir sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I think anyone can probably guess my thoughts on the Senju dogs, even an outsider.” 

Tobi hummed; the sound made right in his ear making Izuna shudder, “You don’t trust them?” 

“Of course not!” Izuna spat, “Why should I trust the ones who have killed so many of my family!” 

“And yet you still are willing to live with them?” 

Izuna turned his head away from the man hovering at his shoulder, “I’ll do what I have to for the sake of the Uchiha.” 

“But do you think this is the best thing for the ‘sake of the Uchiha’?” 

“It doesn't matter what I think. Madara is the clan leader, I’ll support whatever decisions my brother makes.” 

Izuna stiffened as Tobi moved to rest his head on his shoulder, the hard edge of what had to be a mask digging into his collarbone, “Ah but you didn’t answer the question Izuna-kun...” 

“I don’t think this peace will end well,” Izuna bit out through gritted teeth, “I’ve answered your questions, now get the hell off me or I’ll rip that stolen eye out of your face!” 

“Stolen!” Tobi squawked, pulling back quickly, “Your lack of trust wounds me.” 

“You kidnapped me. Why should I trust you?” Izuna pointed out heatedly.

Tobi sighed dramatically, “And here I thought we were building a rapport...” 

The sharingan appeared again from behind him to meet Izuna’s gaze. 

“I'm not sure how I can convince you that I am who I say I am, but I certainly have the interests of the Uchiha at heart,” Tobi stated, all traces of humour disappearing from his voice in an instant.

Izuna blinked, unable to avoid looking directly into the dangerous orb as it was the only thing in his eye line. 

“This peace will doom the Uchiha. That village will be the end of your clan.” 

Izuna sneered, “What are you, some kind of oracle? You really expect me to believe that?”

The red sharingan hovering in front of him started to spin faster and faster before morphing into a pinwheeled mangekyou. 

Izuna inhaled sharply, this was bad

“Do you want to protect your clan?” Tobi said softly, so soft that Izuna had to strain to hear him.

“I’ll protect them from maniacs like you,” Izuna jeered, twisting in his bonds yet again, perhaps if he broke his wrist, he could wiggle out of them.

Tobi snorted, “How do you know I’m any worse than the maniacs you already let into the village? Your precious brother happily climbed in bed with the clan who murdered your siblings.”

Izuna flinched, how did this stranger know about his family? Details of the losses in the war between the two clans weren’t exactly common knowledge, so how did he know about his siblings if he wasn’t an Uchiha or a Senju?

The eye drew closer until Izuna could smell the scent of rot in the air again, “What about little Takara?”

Izuna tensed, how dare this man bring up his sister?

“I wonder what your littlest sibling would think if she saw Madara making merry with her murderers…” Tobi drawled.

“Take my sister’s name out of your mouth before I remove your tongue!” Izuna snarled. He was going to make Tobi’s death a slow one.

“And poor Hikaru… his corpse flaunted in front of you by the Senju. How old was he again?”

Izuna didn’t know whether to scream or cry. All he did know was that Madara better rescue him soon so that he could flay Tobi’s skin from his silver-tongued corpse.

“Don’t worry Izuna-kun, I’ll stop now. I just wanted to remind you of who your brother is choosing to work with.”

“You think I don’t know?” He growled, “You think I don’t want to tear every Senju to shreds for what they’ve done to my family?”

Tobi hummed encouragingly.

“I want them to feel every pain that my siblings felt when they died, I want them to know how desperate our clan was for food when they burned our fields, I want them to suffer as I have.”

“So why go along with Madara’s plan?” Tobi prodded, mangekyou watching eerily through the pitch black.

“It was either that or let my whole clan fall to the daimyo’s wrath.” Izuna maintained, desperately reminding himself that he had made the right decision.

(Hadn’t he? Could the Uchiha have made it on their own?)

“But wasn’t the daimyo only angry because of the potential peace deal between your clans? If there were no peace, then your clan would have been left alone.”

Izuna swallowed the lump rising in his throat, “The daimyo has always felt threatened by the ninja clans. This was inevitable.”

(Wasn’t it? Izuna had to have made the right decision. What would his dead siblings think of him otherwise?)

“I-It was inevitable! Madara made the only decision he could for the sake of the clan!” Izuna continued harshly, defending his own choice as much as his brothers.

“What do you think will come of this village Izuna-kun, do you think the Uchiha will coexist with the Senju forever?” Tobi intoned softly, a strange lilting tone to his voice that cut through the panic slowly rising in Izuna.

Izuna took a harsh breath in, he had done what he had to.

He had done what was best for his brother.

And his brother had done what was best for the clan.

(He had to have, Madara would put the clan first above anything, right?)

 “The Uchiha will end, Izuna.” Tobi stated matter-of-factly, “And it will be because of the village.”

“I don’t believe you,” Izuna tried, not fully believing his own words.

“You don’t have to believe my words Izuna-kun,” Tobi’s eye bobbed closer, “But you will believe what I show you.” 

He came even closer until all Izuna could see was the slowly spinning pinwheel of the man’s mangekyou.

“Let me tell you a story,” Tobi began, “It begins with a boy named Uchiha Itachi who loved the village so much...” 

And Izuna saw.

Notes:

ha
ha
ha
Ima just leave this here

I told you he was in good hands 🙂

Not a full chapter but I hope you guys enjoyed 💛💛
This is more of a halfway marker, so the next update will be the actual start of part 2.

I promise things will get better, some funny bits planned hopefully that'll make up for poor Izuna.

Chapter 16: In which our heroes camp out in a cave

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The caves were just as Kakashi remembered them. 

Cool and damp and with just enough moss covering the ground, they were a nice place to rest after a mission—a place to regroup and become human again after his ANBU missions. 

Except this wasn’t after an ANBU mission, and he felt more human now than in years

Obito. 

Obito was alive.  

And here . Somehow. 

Thoughts were spinning in his head over and over again, and Kakashi could barely keep himself together. How had this happened?

Obito’s words were playing on repeat in his head. What had he meant by the first thing he saw when he was alive? Kakashi certainly hadn’t seen him, until a few hours ago; he had assumed his skeleton still lay in that awful cavern among the boulders.

Kakashi wasn’t an idiot. His old teammate could only be referring to his sharingan, which meant he had seen Kakashi and Ri-

(No. That was not a moment he was going to revisit)

Obito had taunted him, mocked him, and all Kakashi could feel was confusion. 

What had happened to his friend?

Kakashi wondered sometimes how his own story was planned out. 

If the things he’s been through amounted to anything or were side chapters in someone else's story.

What would people see when they looked upon the things he’d done? Who would they see that had done them? Would they see Hatake Kakashi, the copy-nin, ANBU Hound, the jounin sensei of yet another failed Team Seven, or maybe just a sad, broken man trying to do as he was told?

And now, if he was flung back to the past, did anything he did matter? 

He wondered if they got out of this alive, somehow, and Konoha managed to be formed, miraculously, would his name be mentioned?

(He didn’t think it deserved to be)

His actions were just messing up the future for other versions of the people he cared about, nothing worth glorifying. 

He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he had failed. 

He had failed Konoha, the friends he had left, and everything that he knew as his future. 

Failure was painful.

It wasn’t a sharp pain, nor a dull ache. It was more of a sucking, draining hurt, like fishhooks latched onto his veins were pulling him backwards, slowing his movements and filling him with sinking dread threatening to pull him under completely.

It was like he was this close to drowning. 

The only thing keeping him from falling entirely underwater were the people here still suffering due to his actions. He wasn’t sure if he could call them friends, but Hashirama, Tobirama, Madara and Mito were camped out in this damp cave because of him. 

(and Obito, Obito was alive )

Madara, in particular, had his brother taken from him just weeks after nearly losing him in battle. Kakashi wasn’t going to abandon him. He had given his word to help, and he would. 

There was also the looming threat that he had completely diverted the timeline from the one he was familiar with.

Based on what Mito had explained before they had returned to the village, it was possible his timeline was too distant from the path this one had taken for him to get back. She explained it like a river: if it flows through the mountains, you always know where you will come out if you follow it down. But if a landslide happens somewhere along the river's flow, it can be disrupted, and the river can shift completely to exit somewhere different from where it did before. 

Even if Kakashi managed to help get the founding of Konoha back on track, there was a possibility that a landslide had already happened, putting himself and everyone he was with on a different path than the timeline he had been on originally. 

Especially after what had just happened, he was increasingly aware that he may never see his friends and team again. It was something he was actively shoving to the back of his mind. 

There was a lot back there at the moment. 

Most of it he was comfortable to ignore for as long as possible. Still, one thing was unfortunately an active topic of conversation in the dank caves the ragged group had found themselves bunkering down in.

Kakashi shifted uncomfortably against the wall as Tobirama’s red eyes bore into him.

“What do you mean you don’t know who he is?” The Senju grumbled, “He obviously knew you.” 

Kakashi sighed, “I know who he is, but it’s not possible for him to be here.”

The albino glared at him, “How is it that our village lies in embers now, then? Was it stray Uchiha target practice?”

Kakashi blinked, “Well... technically-” 

“He was an Uchiha,” Madara said flatly, his voice horse from exertion and smoke he had inhaled earlier. 

The Uchiha had been quiet on the hurried journey to the caves, alternating between studying the back of Kakashi’s head and tracking the path of the sun across the sky anxiously as more and more time slipped by.

Kakashi didn’t know quite how to interact with Madara at the moment. Surely he had connected the dots between Kakashi and Obito by now. 

He must hate him. 

This had created pangs of discomfort somewhere near where his heart should be that cut through the sluggishness of failure and disbelief that had taken over him. 

He didn’t want Madara to hate him.

Against his better judgment, he didn’t mind the company of the spikey-haired founder. He was fun to talk with and seemed to have an odd understanding of the things Kakashi shared with him. And it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes, either.

Madara’s eyes, however, were staring a hole through Kakashi’s hitai-ate with an intensity that made the jounin want to turn away. It differed from the odd tenderness he had shown on the cliffside but not the total hostility he had expected.

“An Uchiha?” Tobirama growled, sitting forward from the cave wall in a more hostile posture. 

Madara’s lips thinned, “Yeah, he had a mangekyou.” 

Hashirama hummed thoughtfully, “You didn’t recognise him, Madara?”

“No. Never seen him before,” the Uchiha said, shaking his head before focusing again on Kakashi. “But he has.” 

All eyes focused on Kakashi's weary figure slumped against the wall.

“Kakashi-san?” Hashirama looked an odd mixture of suspicious and concerned. It reminded Kakashi of the particular look Gai got when he thought his friend was taking on too many ANBU missions. 

He sighed, “I suppose I owe you some explanation then?”

Hashirama gave a weak smile, “If you would.” 

The jounin sat up slightly from the wall, looking between the three shinobi observing him and Mito’s more sympathetic gaze from slightly behind Hashirama.

“I can’t tell you everything,” He began, “But I can tell you about O-Obito.” 

He cursed himself for choking on the name.

Tobirama watched him with narrowed red eyes, “Hashirama said he referred to himself as Tobi.” 

“That’s what he told us, too,” Madara added, tapping a worried rhythm on the cave wall with a finger.

Kakashi scratched at his wrist in an attempt to distract his racing mind, “I’m not sure where that name came from. When I knew him, his name was Uchiha Obito.” 

Hashirama hummed in thought, “Illegitimate, I’m guessing? He must be if Madara wasn’t aware of him.” 

Kakashi winced. There was no good way to explain this away, “I’m not sure. I only knew him for a few years really, we were young.” 

Madara chewed his lip, “He knew what he was doing with his dojutsu. He had to have some sort of teacher.” 

Kakashi merely hummed, letting them fill in the blanks in his silence; it was better than having to spin even more lies. 

Mito tilted her head curiously, “Do you know how he got all the way here from... where you used to be?” 

The jounin appreciated her attempt to keep things vague, “He mentioned getting here the same way I did, likely he’s the one who sent me here.” 

“Sent you here?” Tobirama pressed with narrowed eyes, “That seal from the battlefield?”

Kakashi nodded.

Madara chewed his lip, “Did you know he was the one to send you here?” 

“No, I didn’t know he was alive ,” Kakashi emphasised, he wanted Madara to believe him. 

Hashirama tugged on a lock of his hair nervously, “Well, whatever the situation, he obviously has it out for us, and whatever you can tell us could help us get Izuna back.” 

Madara turned to the Senju with wide eyes, “You're going to help get my brother back?”

Hashirama gave a weak but warm smile, “Of course, Madara, he was taken in defence of the village, Senju included.” 

Mito tilted her head curiously, the tags hanging from her hair brushing her shoulders, “How did Obito manage to take Izuna? He’s a very capable shinobi from what I know.” 

Kakashi shrugged; he had no idea how the dead last had gotten so skilled. Obito had obviously gotten a lot stronger in the time since Kakashi saw him last.

(Dead in a cave, the last time Kakashi had seen him, he was dead in a cave)

Obito’s other sharingan sent a pulse of pain through his face. Kakashi wasn’t sure if it was phantom or not. He could barely think about Obito, talking about him in a calm manner was proving very difficult.

“What does he want? ” Madara asked quietly, hands balled into white-knuckled fists, belying the emotions that the Uchiha’s voice wasn’t.

Kakashi forced his face into a broad smile, making sure his eye crinkled into something different than the dead-eyed stare he knew he had been giving, “Who knows, maybe he just really wanted Izuna’s secrets on hair care.” 

Madara growled, pushing off the wall to glare threateningly at the jounin, “Do you think this is funny, Hatake?” 

He really didn’t, but he needed to attempt some sort of front to distract from his shaking hands.

Hashirama laughed nervously, “Well, maybe this is some sort of misunderstanding. I mean, you said you used to be friends, right Kakashi-san?”

“Not everyone is like you and the Uchiha, brother,” Tobirama rolled his eyes, “Most childhood friends turned mortal enemies don’t end up reconciling.” 

“You don’t know that, Tobi,” The older Senju tried, fidgeting with the hem of his robe.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t let the Inuzuka in, we wouldn't be here!” The albino snapped, the red lines on his face making his glare even more piercing. 

The first hint of irritation appeared on Hashirama’s face, “I already admitted that you were right, Tobi, you don’t have to bring it up again.” 

“Well, obviously I do if you’re still naive enough to think this problem can be explained away with a misunderstanding.” 

Hashirama narrowed his eyes slightly, releasing a little bit of chakra to crackle through the cave.

Kakashi shivered slightly at the power he could feel. 

How was the Obito he knew able to compete with that? 

Mito sighed, putting a hand on the shoulder of each of the tense Senju, “This isn’t helping. We need to figure out how to find Izuna.” 

Madara had leaned back against the wall again and was glaring a hole in Kakashi’s head, “ He still hasn’t told us that much.” 

Mito closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “I’m sure Kakashi will share what is relevant when he needs to.” 

Kakashi hummed cheerfully in agreement, a sharp contrast to the sharp staccato his heart was drumming in his chest. If Madara pushed more about Obito he wasn’t sure how he could keep it together. 

He didn’t want to think about him. 

It’s not like he wanted to upset Madara, but he didn’t know if he could take much more talk about his past. 

Madara ran a hand through his mop of hair, voice sullen and quiet “I just want to get my brother back.” 

Kakashi knew that was the next step for their group. They needed to get Izuna back, and then he could maybe get some answers about Obito.

A thought suddenly made its way through the molasses clogging his brain. He wondered if he could summon his ninken? They would make any sort of tracking much more manageable.

Even if he did summon them, would they be his pack? Or whatever pack was tied to the summoning contract at this point in time? 

There was only one way to find out.

“I might be able to track where they went,” Kakashi said, making every eye snap towards him.

Mito looked concerned, “It’s been over 6 hours, can you really track them?” 

Kakashi nodded, remaining sprawled against the wall behind him in forced relaxation. He wasn’t quite sure he could stand if he even wanted to.

“What are you waiting for then?” Madara hissed, “My brother could be being tortured right now!” 

Kakashi looked away from the anxious Uchiha, instead slipping a senbon out of his sleeve to jab sharply at one of his fingertips before planting his hand on the cave floor.

Gods, he hoped this worked.

He felt a rush of chakra flood out of him, more than summoning his pack usually required, before familiar shapes poofed into existence. 

The vests and hitai-ates tied around their heads and necks confirmed that they were his.

He relaxed at the familiar sight and scents of his pack; however, his companions didn’t appear to be quite as relieved, with Tobirama spitting some choice curses in surprise and Hashirama simply blinking owlishly at the newly appeared ninken.

“About time you called us boss,” Pakkun’s voice came gruffly through the mass of furry bodies as the small pug shouldered his way to the front, plopping down between Kakashi’s sprawled legs.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” 

Pakkun fixed him with a beady glare that somehow conveyed much more human emotion than it should, “We’ll always come when you need us, pup.” 

The other ninken woofed in agreement, some coming up beside him to burrow into his sides while others sniffed around the cavern, staring suspiciously at the founders, watching them with wide eyes. Bisuke snuggled against his arm, coming to lick the side of his masked cheek comfortingly.

Kakashi released a breath around the lump that had taken up residence in his throat. 

He wasn’t sure how this was possible, but it was a relief that he wasn’t all alone, stranded in this time without any tie to his future.

Pakkun blinked once more reassuringly at Kakashi before turning to the other nin in the cave, “Hello. I am Pakkun.”

Hashirama blinked a few times before recovering gracefully, ducking his head to the ninken, “A pleasure, I am Senju Hashirama, and this is my brother Tobirama.” 

Mito introduced herself with a small bow, eyes examining the pack shrewdly.

Madara looked down at the little pug with what Kakashi could swear was a hint of fear in his eyes. “Uchiha Madara, what are you? You're wearing clothes!” 

“How rude, Madara-chan, Pakkun is a who, not a what,” Kakashi scolded, a bit of genuine humour seeping into his tone.

Pakkun blinked up at the Uchiha with eyes that Kakashi knew could look way too human for the face they peered out of, “Uchiha-sama, you’re shorter than I imagined.” 

Madara scowled at the pug, “And you're as rude as your master.”

Pakkun snorted, returning to Kakashi, “And this is why I’ve never let an Uchiha touch my paws.” 

“I need you to track someone for me,” Kakashi continued, “Madara’s brother is missing, taken by...” He paused, “Uchiha Obito.” 

Pakkun blinked, “Obito?” 

Kakashi gave a short nod, hoping his summon wouldn’t say anything else on the matter, “Do you remember his scent?”

Bisuke’s nose twitched against Kakashi’s side in confirmation as Pakkun gave an oddly human nod. 

“You just want us to find them?” The small ninken kept his eyes trained on Kakashi, looking for all the world that if he had eyebrows, he would be raising one of them.

He nodded, “They left the village about 6 hours ago, not sure which direction.” 

The ninken nodded sharply, “Don’t worry, pup, we’ll find them. Uchiha have a distinctive scent.” 

Madara let out what could only be described as a slightly offended sneeze. 

The ninken streamed out of the cave quickly, leaving nothing behind but a few loose hairs. 

Time passed both slowly and quickly. It was an odd in-between where Kakashi knew things were happening outside the cave, but inside felt like a liminal space that was both displaced in time and somehow precisely where he needed to be. 

It felt like forever and an instant before Tobirama broke the hush that had fallen over the group after the exit of the ninken.

“You’re a dog summoner,” Tobirama stated, not really asking the question his words implied. 

“A ninken summoner,” Kakashi corrected, tapping a long finger against his masked jaw, “I wouldn’t call them dogs, or you might find yourself down a limb, Tobirama-san.” 

Tobirama turned away with a huff. 

“And... they’ll find my brother?” Madara questioned softly, black eyes glinting slightly in the low light of the cave.

“Yes, to the best of their abilities,” Kakashi confirmed, carefully meeting the Uchiha’s eyes.

“Why should we trust you again?” Madara continued, “Have you even told us the truth once?”

Kakashi looked away, “I’ve told you the truth as much as possible, Madara.” 

The Uchiha pursed his lips, a look of confusion and something unreadable in his eyes, “I want to trust you, but I’m not sure if I should.”

Madara pushed away from the wall and stalked over to where Kakashi was still on the floor, crouching in front of him in an imitation of when he had so gently wiped the blood off his face earlier.

The Senju brothers hastily made themselves busy sorting through what was left in Mito’s pack, with Hashirama twisting back to watch them with wide eyes every few seconds. 

“Tell me why I want to trust you so badly,” Madara’s voice was so quiet Kakashi had to strain to hear it even with his enhanced hearing. 

“I don’t know,” He replied just as quietly, a hand drifting up from his side to brush some of the hair back from Madara’s face without permission. 

The Uchiha seized his hand in a calloused palm, not letting Kakashi jerk it away as was his reflex.

Why am I drawn to you? Is it some sort of jutsu? Are you on Obito's side? Sent to infiltrate us?” Madara’s voice was a low, hostile hiss, a sharp contrast to the finger he stroked down the centre of Kakashi’s palm.

The jounin gave a low chuckle, “How you feel is your own doing, Madara, I’m no Yamanaka. I can’t mess with your mind.” 

Madara let out a noise that was closer to a whimper than anything else, “I’m so confused, Hatake, you’ve brought chaos upon all the things I love. My brother is missing due to someone you're connected to, but I still want to trust you. What did you do to me?”

Something in Kakashi’s chest shuddered slightly, uncomfortable with the earnest truth shining out of Madara’s dark eyes yet craving more. 

The Uchiha wouldn’t stop looking at him, dark hair a curtain around his face that Kakashi itched to run his hands through. The cave was quiet for a moment, the only noises the soft shifting of Mito’s robes as she sorted through her bag with the Senju and the occasional plop of water falling onto bits of stone poking through the moss that lined the floor of the cave.

“Madara...” He trailed off, unsure how to respond. He felt the sudden urge to shunshin away from the strange emotions welling up in him as quickly as possible.

Didn’t he want Madara to trust him? Why was he so uneasy with being granted it?

(Because he didn’t deserve it, anyone who had trusted him had been let down)

Madara dropped his hand suddenly, a troubled scowl taking root on his face, “You’re going to tell me the truth after all this is over. I don’t know what your story is, but I'm not fool enough not to see the holes you’ve left in your answers.” 

The Uchiha remained crouched between his legs, no longer hostile but more contemplative, “You’ll help get my brother back, and then we’re going to talk. ” 

It wasn’t a question, merely an assertion. 

Kakashi nodded, “I’ll help get your brother back.” 

Madara stood opening his mouth to add something when noise echoed down the entrance to the cave, causing all the nin to tense and reach for their weapons.

Kakashi felt the brush of familiar chakra and relaxed as Pakkun and Bisuke burst back into the cave, Pakkun’s gruff voice cutting through the tension, “We found them, boss.” 

Madara glanced one more time down at Kakashi before stalking back across the cave to lean against the wall with a furrowed brow. 

Kakashi dutifully ignored him, instead choosing to answer his loyal ninken, “Already? Thank you Pakkun. Where are they?”

The two ninken exchanged glances before the smaller of them answered grimly, “Inside the capital. We couldn't get inside to find out exactly where, but the scent trail ends at the southern gate.” 

The sealing tile clutched in Hashirama’s hand crumbled into dust as he tightened it at the answer, “Should have known they went straight to the daimyo.” 

Mito nodded, fiddling with the tags in her hair, “The capital will be well guarded, we’ll have to be very careful.” 

“We’re shinobi,” Kakashi answered flippantly, “What do we do that isn’t careful?”

Tobirama blinked at them, “This is going to be a disaster.” 

Madara simply sniffled loudly, looking down at the ninken in distaste, “Do they have to come?”

Kakashi looked at his companions with what felt dangerously like fondness; the founders hadn’t been at all what he was expecting, but no one could say that they weren’t interesting. 

Even if things didn’t go so well, at least Kakashi could distract himself from his failures with some laughter.

Notes:

annddd part two is started!

a bit more development in kakamada, but these two definitely have their trust issues to work out. Both sides are carrying a whole lot to deal with, lemme just mention #giveshinobitherapy again

this whole capital infiltration plot is definitely not me desperately wanting to write spy shenanigans...

Sorry this was a bit delayed, i kinda got sucked into rare pair hell and started writing a sasuke/shikamaru fic that i may or may not post at some point, it sucked up quite a bit of my time that i usually dedicate to this story 😅
________
Kakashi: *buffering*
Madara: So whos this rouge uchiha huh
Kakashi: haHA EVERYTHING'S FINE
Madara: Go on, answer me
Kakashi to himself: uhhh what do i do, i know! if i insult him enough maybe he'll drop it
Kakashi: You're a DUM DUM

Hashirama and Tobirama: *getting on each others nerves*
Kakakshi and Madara: *half fighting half flirting*
Mito: What the fuck have I gotten myself into

Izuna: sooo uhhhh have y'all forgotten about me?
Obito: *murder chuckles* I haven't
Izuna: noooOOOOOO

Chapter 17: In which Madara remembers why he doesn’t like swamps

Notes:

ahaha im back?

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The nighttime breeze on Madara’s skin was cool as they moved further north. It had been a little over two days on the way to the capital, and they were trying to make good progress while staying off the main roads. This led to a lot of twigs getting caught in his hair as they traipsed through thickets of trees and mud staining the bottom of the mantle he had put on what felt like so long ago for the meeting with the Uzumaki.

He didn’t like hiking. 

But there wasn’t much of a choice. 

The swamp surrounding the Land of Fire’s capital was notorious for being difficult to traverse by the ground. Enterprising travellers had built raised wooden paths over the bog, creating well-traversed routes in and out of the city. However, these paths were also easily patrolled and controlled. Meaning that if you were trying to stay under the radar as their group currently was, the easy route wasn’t really an option. 

And so Madara found himself hiking, growing increasingly irritated with every increment the moon travelled across the sky. 

He wasn’t having a great time.

His only consolation was that Mito appeared just as fond of their current situation as he was, the Uzumaki having plastered a scowl on her pretty face the first time one of her long sleeves got caught on a prickly bush. She had long since tied up the trailing pieces of fabric, but the damage done to the fabric was already done. 

Madara wondered why, if the Uzumaki were so good at seals, they couldn't create fabric warded against tears.

A query to tuck away for the future, he supposed, it seemed like a topic Izuna would be fascinated with, always being more academically inclined than his elder brother. 

The thought of his brother was a distinctly painful one, but one that kept his tired feet plodding forward through the swampy ground. 

He would get his brother back. 

That thought stoked the bellows of his determination and lit a fire deep within him that he knew would never go out, like the undying flames of Amaterasu. 

Madara had let down his other siblings in the worst way possible. He would not do so again. 

Madara would get his brother back, deal with the daimyo, sort out whatever was happening with Kakashi, and then maybe, just maybe, this nightmare would be over.

But to do that, he had to survive hiking through this swampy forest and tolerate Hashirama’s obnoxious humming. 

It was genuinely horrendous; he could understand why Mito had redone her buns to hang directly over her ears. He wished his hair had noise-blocking capabilities.

Tobirama led the way, using his sensing abilities to tell them when to halt and wait for other groups to pass them. The goal was to alert no one where they were. 

Though Madara wondered if anyone would even recognise them with the amount of mud currently caking each exhausted nin.

Kakashi, in particular, looked like he was about to fall asleep on his feet, fluffy silver hair falling slightly from its gravity-defying style as if mirroring its host's attitude.

Madara wasn’t worried about him. 

He wasn’t.

Not at all. 

And he certainly wasn’t walking behind the taller man just in case he happened to fall. 

Certainly not. Uchiha Madara would never lower himself to that. 

He was just... carefully watching a suspicious element. Or at least that was what he had told Hashirama when the stupid Senju had given him an obnoxiously knowing look. 

The Senju had developed an odd habit of widening his eyes at the Uchiha and motioning none too covertly towards Kakashi. Madara wasn’t sure exactly what his friend thought he knew because he himself certainly didn’t know.

It was probably something about emotions, as it usually was when it came to the Senju. 

It didn’t matter anyway. 

He didn’t know where he stood with Kakashi at the moment, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

The man seemed to want to help

What he had told the Uchiha about his students had been the truth. Madara knew it.

Madara had decided to trust him, but had his judgement been wrong? 

From the moment Kakashi had appeared on the battlefield, he had known too much, talked too little about himself, and been too entwined with the daimyo’s plots. 

And now there was this thing with this Tobi character that the strange shinobi was avoiding talking about with all the grace of Izuna trying to get out of laundry duty.

It was a strange juxtaposition between the man’s apparent sincerity and the cold facts laid out before him. 

He didn’t know what to do.

He wasn’t naturally an indecisive person; he was the leader of the Uchiha. Making tough decisions was part of the deal.

However, when said problem made him both feel like he couldn't breathe straight and like he could only breathe when with him was a bit of a new experience.

Kakashi was an irritation and a distraction that Madara didn’t know what to do with. So, he contented himself with making sure the man didn't keel over until he could get some answers.

As he pondered the situation, the ground grew wetter and wetter as they got closer to the centre of the swamp, and Madara was trying his best not to stumble over low-growing vines hidden beneath a thin layer of water and muck. The thick treetops blocked out most of the moonlight and the croaks of frogs permeated the early morning hours. 

He wondered why the Land of Fire had decided to build its capital in the middle of a swamp. It made for unpleasant travel, and he could only imagine the structural issues resulting from buildings being built on sinking ground.

Hashirama seemed to be the only one enjoying himself, having collected an armful of toads from the muck and arranged them on his shoulders to act like some off-key, morbid choir to accompany his humming. 

Mito’s eyebrow twitched as a particularly loud orange toad let out an abrasive grumbling scream of a call, “ What are you doing, Hashirama?”

The Senju spun around to face her, peering around Kakashi and Madara to the back of the procession. 

He continued to walk backwards and somehow avoided walking into any trees, “Don’t you like toads, Mito-hime? They thrive where few can and continue to call out their presence, never hiding where or what they are.” 

The Uzumaki blinked at him thoughtfully, a bit of the irritation sliding off her face, “I suppose.” 

Hashirama smiled widely before spinning around back to face forward. 

Madara rolled his eyes, leaning backwards to speak softly to the Uzumaki, “Hashirama uses whimsy to distract from serious situations.” 

Despite the outward ridiculous cheer the Senju was projecting, Madara could see the dark bags underneath eyes that were darting between the dark shadows in the thickets of trees. 

Mito hummed in contemplation, seemingly more curious now than annoyed, “What a ridiculous man.” 

Kakashi let out a sudden snort of amusement.

Madara narrowed his eyes at the back of the man’s silver head, “Something funny, Hatake?”

“Do I have to pick only one? There are many funny things in the world, Madara-chan!”

  The Uchiha wrinkled his nose, “You’re irritating, and this is not the time for this.”

Kakashi looked over his shoulder with a hooded grey eye, “If not in the darkest of times, when else is there a use for humour then?” 

Suddenly, the disjointed noise coming from the Senju cut off abruptly, the entire party jerking to a halt as Tobirama’s hand flew up from the head of their procession. Madara cocked his head in the new silence, trying to hear whatever had alarmed Tobirama. 

He leaned around Kakashi to peer through the trees, a slight twinge of pain in his eyes as the sharingan spun into existence. 

Madara scowled at the sight before him. 

A small group of people could be seen picking their way almost silently through the swamp. 

Shinobi by the looks of their clothing and weapons.

They seemed to have heard Hashirama’s racket and were heading their way to investigate. 

He hissed as much to Mito and watched as the irritation from before rapidly reappeared as the Uzumaki sent a particularly poisonous glare towards the sheepish-looking Senju.

“Frog sounds are normal in a swamp!” Hashirama defended in a nervous whisper.

Tobirama sniffed disdainfully, “Not when they’re accompanied by what sounds like a dying animal.” 

Madara hushed them with a glare, motioning sharply towards the trees, “Stop blabbing and hide, you morons.”

Hashirama had the gall to look wounded by the Uchiha’s reaction before grabbing Tobirama and disappearing into the treetops with barely a whisper of sound, vines creeping over the branches to mask any hint of his presence. 

Mito crouched low to the ground, smearing a bit more muck onto her clothing before flattening herself against a particularly massive tree, the raised roots creating a hollow for the Uzumaki to tuck herself into.

Madara followed her example and took cover in the small cave-like area created by a recently fallen tree, a tight space made even tighter by Kakashi squeezing himself in right after the Uchiha. 

‘What are you doing?” He hissed under his breath, shifting uncomfortably against the pointy roots as he tried to create a little space between himself and the taller man.

“Hiding!” Kakashi said lightly, tilting his head towards the forest behind him, “Would you rather I stayed there and got their attention?”

The Uchiha scowled, “Don’t be dense.” 

“Ah, but it’s hard when all you do is ask me stupid questions.” 

Madara bristled, “Look-”

“Shhh.” 

A hand pressed against his mouth had the Uchiha choking on the retort and his eyes widening almost comically. 

“I swear I heard something come from over here,” The thin, boyish voice came from through the trees, only a few meters from the hollow of tree roots the two shinobi had found themselves in. 

A higher voice responded, annoyance strong in their intonations, “I swear, Tadao, we’ve been searching through this muck for hours. You really think two clan leaders would really stoop to this? The captain gave us the short stick because you pissed him off again.” 

The thin voice, presumably Tadao, responded, “Well, you're here too, Aoi, maybe the captain finally got sick of you stealing extra noodles at mealtimes.”

“I’m a growing girl,” Aoi defended, “My grandmother was Akimichi, I can’t help it!”

“Shut up, both of you. There’s someone here, look in the mud. Footprints.” A third voice chimed in, deeper and more hushed than the two others had been.

Madara cursed silently; he thought it would have been dark enough to conceal them.

“Are you sure they're actually footprints? That could be anything, Taro.” 

“No, I think he’s right, Aoi. Look, there are way too many toads on that log, someone must have put them there.” 

“It’s a swamp Tadao. Of course there’s going to be a lot of toads.”

“Have you ever seen ten toads on one log before?” 

“I don’t know, Tadao. I’ve seen you and your bunkmates try to do the obstacle course before. I feel like that’s pretty close.” 

“Hey!”

What was going on?  

These shinobi were not exactly the top-marked squad Madara expected to be sent after them. He ripped Kakashi’s hand off his face with a glare and shifted against the roots behind him, pushing the other shinobi back into the other corner of the roots to clear the way to the open air. These three wouldn't stand a chance against them. Why were they hiding like cowards when they could easily beat these imbeciles?

“Madara, what did you tell me about holding back when encountering strange shinobi in a forest?” Kakashi said under his breath, quieter than a murmur, hand grabbing the Uchiha’s sleeve tightly.

Madara shot the other man a warning glare and ripped his arm away, “ Move, Hatake.” 

He was angry, furious really, at his situation, those who had taken his brother, and the lies that had been kept from him. He couldn’t do much about those things at the moment, but he could release that anger somehow. 

Plans were overrated anyway.

“Did you guys hear that?” Aoi’s voice sounded again, a nervous note wavering slightly in the air.

Madara bumped Kakashi out of the way with a sharp shoulder and pushed out into the open air.

He cracked his knuckles as three shinobi spun to look at him with wide, frightened eyes, “I didn’t hear anything, actually.” 

“Madara...” Hashirama’s reproachful voice drifted down from above as the Senju landed with a muffled splash beside him, “We were hiding .”

“I got bored.” The Uchiha growled, a lick of fire slipping past his teeth with a hiss.

Tobirama dropped beside his brother, white fur collar matted and smeared with mud, “Oh no, heavens forbid Uchiha Madara from being bored while in a life-or-death version of hide and seek.” 

Mito untucked herself from her hollow, “At least you had a tree to hide in, Senju, I would not recommend the roots. Did you know that there are at least five varieties of beetle down there?” 

“Duly noted.” The albino replied dryly.

The small group of adversaries stared wide-eyed at them, hands held in defensive positions.

“Hello! How are you fine folk these evenings? Or is it morning? I can’t really tell through the trees.” Kakashi called cheerfully as he appeared behind the three uniformed nin in a puff of leaves.

All three startled, spinning to be back-to-back in the middle of the loose circle that had formed around them.

“Y-you!” The stocky brown-haired kunoichi finally stammered after a few beats of staring, pointing between the two clan leaders.

The second shinobi, a short, mousy-haired boy whose hands were ever so slightly trembling, spoke up in a reedy voice, “I-I told you guys I heard something.”

Shut up, Tadao.” The kunoichi hissed, a slightly hysterical tinge to her voice.

The leader, a tall man with a small nose, grey-flecked black hair, and a rather ratty-looking set of armour, seemed to be the most composed and was studying Madara and Hashirama with narrowed eyes, “I don’t want to fight you.”

Tobirama snorted, “As if you could call what would happen here a fight.”  

The leader tilted his head to the side, studying the younger Senju momentarily, “The daimyo doesn't think you’re here. That’s why we’re patrolling this area and not someone actually competent.” 

The kunoichi started, looking at the black-haired man with wide, betrayed eyes, “Taro!”

The leader took a small step forward, hands lifting up into the air away from any weapons he could have reached at his waist, “My name is Taro. These two idiots are Aoi and Tadao. You could kill us within a second, so how about we forget we saw you here, and you continue on, leaving all of our limbs intact.” 

Madara frowned. He was getting antsy for a fight, and these fools wanted to just... give up?

Hashirama took a step forward as well, summoning vines swaying down behind him in an ominous curtain of dark green. “How do we know you won’t just turn around as soon as we pass to inform your superiors?”  

Taro smiled bitterly, “I don't have any loyalty to the daimyo. I do as I'm paid to do. And I’m certainly not paid enough to fight you .

“You’re a mercenary.” Madara bit out, fist clenching at his side.

Taro stared pointedly above the Uchiha’s eyes, “A smart one.”

Tadao turned his head from where he was nervously trying to meet Kakashi’s one-eyed gaze to look at his leader, “Taro, you can’t really be trying to cut a deal with these traitors!”

Tobirama’s smile was a twisted, bitter thing, “Yes, Taro, please tell me you don’t intend to deal with traitors .” 

Hashirama was simply quiet, studying the older man with narrowed chestnut eyes.

Taro smiled tiredly, “I could care less who the daimyo decrees as traitors; he kicked someone out of the palace last week for daring to have hair that was shinier than his. I don’t think he has the most discerning criteria. However, I do care about staying alive.” 

Aoi frowned harshly, teeth slightly bared with her kunai in a white-knuckled grip as she faced Mito and Tobirama, “You’re a selfish coward with no loyalty, Taro.” 

Madara snorted, “Seems like the daimyo has a mighty fine army of shinobi at his disposal, cowards, turncoats, and morons.” 

Tadao's eyes darted towards him, an expression on the boy’s face not unlike that of a panicked horse, “At least we work for the good of our nation, unlike you feuding clan folk still stuck in the dark ages!” 

Madara bristled, preparing to argue back to this child who thought he was so much better than him, only to be cut off by Hashirama stepping forward one more step. 

The Senju had a broad smile on his face, “Taro, we can negotiate here. I don’t want to hurt you or your subordinates.”

"Subordinantes?!" Aoi squawked, a brief flash of indignation replacing the fear and anger on her face.

The older soldier nodded, “What do you want then?” 

“Information.” 

He shook his head, troubled, “I’m afraid there’s not much I can tell you.” 

Madara cracked his knuckles again, “There are ways I’m sure we could fix that.” 

Taro glanced towards him again with a tired smile, “Ah Uchiha-sama, I think you misunderstand; I would tell you if there was actually anything I knew, but what I said earlier was true. They don't think you’re here, so they didn’t send anyone important. We’re the lowest of the daimyo’s militia, we aren’t exactly told much.” 

Shut up, Taro, they don’t need to know that!” Aoi hissed, jabbing the older man with an elbow.

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully. “What did they tell you when they told you to search for us then?” 

Taro reached for his waist, causing everyone surrounding him to take a threatening step forward. 

He paused, “Don’t panic, I’m just getting my orders scroll.”

Hashirama gestured for him to continue. 

The uniformed shinobi pulled out a bronze-capped scroll with the seal of the daimyo emblazoned on it and tossed it to Hashirama. 

The Senju quickly unfurled it, brow pulling into a frown as he scanned the paper. 

“So, what does it say?” Tobirama demanded, raising an impatient eyebrow at his brother.

 “Well, it’s not the daimyo’s grocery list,” The elder Senju started grimly, “and it’s not pretty either.

Madara took a few quick steps to draw even with Hashirama, trying to peer over his shoulder. 

Mito stepped sideways towards them, making sure to still face the anxiously tense Aoi. “Well?”

Hashirama cleared his throat, “On the orders of the most honourable daimyo and his esteemed advisors, all members of the Capital Militia are hereby ordered to search for the Uchiha and Senju traitors. They are thought to be approaching the capital by way of the trade routes. Keep your eyes out for any suspicious merchants. Traitors are to be brought back to the capital for trial. Two hundred coins per head.” 

Madara finally got a glimpse of the scroll and quickly scanned the images of them printed below the notice, “By the goddess, how did they get your nose that wrong, Hashirama?” 

The Senju pouted for a beat before smiling widely again, pointing at the image next to his, “At least they got your hair right.” 

He winced; he knew his hair wasn’t the neatest at the moment, but good gods, the artist didn't have to take up half the page with it!

Kakashi snorted from over Madaras's shoulder, causing the Uchiha to jump in surprise, “They really did do a good job!” 

Madara tossed the hair in question over his shoulder before stomping back over to stand next to Mito, turning his glare on the militia soldiers.

Kakashi was still irritating, and he didn't have to keep getting so close to him. 

The younger two shinobi shivered under his glare.

Kakashi took the scroll from Hashirama, scanning it carefully, “They're confident we’re heading to the capital then.”

“Well, of course they are,” Madara growled, “They know they won’t get away with taking my brother for long.” 

Hashirama frowned, “They always seem to know how things will play out; it’s odd. They know how we are going to react and plan accordingly.” 

Madara growled, “It doesn't matter what they thought would happen, 'cause it didn’t! We’re here, we’re alive, and we’re coming to kick their ass.

Tobirama gave him an odd half smirk, “Never took you to be a motivational speaker, Uchiha.” 

He sniffed derisively in the pale Senju’s direction, “It’s not motivational, Senju, it’s merely the facts.” 

Taro cleared his throat, “Does that satisfy you? Can we go now? Alive, hopefully?” 

The two younger shinobi behind him looked miserable.

Madara wondered exactly how young they were. This could be their first mission of any importance. What bad luck to run into them. 

Hashirama sighed, “I can’t let you go knowing you could inform on our location.” 

Aoi gulped in fear.

Mito frowned, “We can’t kill them, Hashirama, they’re children!” 

The Senju’s eyes widened, “I’m not going to kill them, Mito-hime!”

Tobirama tilted his head, “Well, you did say that you couldn't let them go. I feel like a logical conclusion to draw from that statement would be-”

“Tobi!” Hashirama whined, turning betrayed eyes on his brother.

Kakashi winced.

The older Senju crossed arms over his chest defensively, “I’m not going to kill children! I meant more like temporary confinement, I can create a cage with my Mokuton and leave some fruit trees to sustain them.” 

“We’re both 14 summers old. We’re not children,” grumbled the kunoichi sullenly.

Mito blinked suddenly, a spark bursting to life in her bright purple eyes. “I have an idea.” 

She began to rummage in her bag, the few remaining premade seals and tiles clinking together, before she pulled out a small yellow strip of paper triumphantly.

“This is a proximity-repelling seal. Normally, it’s affixed to a target, and that target cannot be within a certain radius of the caster, but I may be able to modify it!” The Uzumaki explained smugly, “Sealing is all about intention; if I can change this character to represent the centre of the land of fire and I intend that to be the capital, then...” 

She trailed off into mumbles, scratching lines off the paper with a sharp nail.

Hashirama was staring at her with an awed expression, Madara noticed with disgust, a truly sappy look that looked sweeter than the maple candies Izuna sometimes brought back from the capital.

Kakashi merely snorted in amusement and went back to studying the pictures of them sketched into the paper of the orders scroll.

It wasn’t long before Mito gave an exclamation of victory and smirked triumphantly up at them. 

Hashirama waited eagerly, blinking big brown eyes at the Uzumaki.

She strode toward the trio of militia soldiers, “You’ll be able to return to the capital in a moon's time.”

Taro sighed, “I did suppose it was too much to ask for you just to let us go back home.” 

Mito shrugged, “I could just let Hashirama kill you instead.” 

The Senju squawked with indignation, “I wasn’t going to kill anyone!”

The seal started to glow softly as Mito activated it, her hair and robes lifting slightly in a phantom breeze as her chakra flowed into the piece of paper. 

There was a small burst of light that settled on the three forms of the militia members like glowing pollen before Mito suddenly wobbled slightly and stumbled to the side with a harsh breath. 

“Mito-hime!” Hashirama rushed to her side to support her. 

The Uzumaki smiled, tired but proud, “That took more chakra than I thought it would.”

Taro considered them, “You have your work cut out for you. But you're strong.”

He turned away from them, grabbing the two younger nin by the scruffs of their uniforms before marching them away into the woods despite their squawks of protest, “Avoid the south side of the city. They upped the guards on the merchant quarter.” 

With only the slight splashing of their boots in the muck, the trio of militia members disappeared into the darkness.

“It seems there are still some sane members of the capital left,” Hashirama mused, still supporting a heavily leaning Mito.

Kakashi hummed doubtfully, “Was he sane or just a coward?” 

Tobirama snorted, “When faced with us as opponents, is there really a difference?” 

Madara huffed out a short laugh, “You’re an egotistical bastard, Senju.” 

The albino’s smirk widened slightly, “Aren’t we all, Uchiha?”

With a slight bit of camaraderie in the air that Madara wasn’t sure how he felt about, the group continued through the woods, moving slightly slower as they all started to grow lower and lower in chakra. 

Madara realised how low he was himself when he caught himself stumbling into a tree, his eyes having slipped closed without his knowledge. He couldn't remember the last time he got a full night's rest. Even before the ill-fated trip to the Uzumaki, he had been spending too many of his nights trying to get Izuna to speak with him. 

He wasn’t at his best.

And he needed to be if this haphazard attempt at a rescue was going to succeed. 

He was debating the merits of asking the group to stop and take a quick nap in the swamp when the call they were all waiting for finally came from the front of the procession in Tobirama’s tired tones.

“We’re here.” 

Madara glanced up sharply; the swamp seemed to stop abruptly, a grassy knoll swelling gently out of the treeline instead of the endless trees and vines he had grown accustomed to seeing. 

Ahead of him, Kakashi swayed dangerously as the group came to a stop. Madara gathered he wasn’t the only one in serious need of sleep.

With laboured breath, they climbed the hill, a gentle breeze picking up and chasing away the swamp stink that seemed baked into their clothes and surroundings. 

Reaching the top of the knoll, Madara took a deep breath of fresh air and closed his eyes.

“Wow...” Breathed Mito, looking over the crest of the hill with wide purple eyes. 

Madara opened his eyes, his lips twitched down in instinctive reaction to what he saw.

The first sunbeams of dawn set the walls aglow, the domes of the guard towers shining brightly gold, the opposite of the inconspicuous methods shinobi clans tried to employ with their compounds. From the hilltop, Madara could even catch a whiff of baking bread drifting up from bakeries preparing for the morning rush he knew would take over the streets in a few short hours.

The capital hadn’t even woken up, and it was already brimming with life. 

It’s not like Madara thought the capital was ugly; the opposite really, it was opulent and grand, and it had more wealth in each gold-flaked brick than the entire Uchiha clan. It was more everything within the great walled city that he detested. 

The capital was a smelly, overwhelming sprawl of a place the likes of which were unmatched in the Land of Fire. On the rare occasions he went, he usually stayed in his room when he could or spent his time exploring the gardens, hiding away from the civilians who liked to gawk at the rarity that was a shinobi. On the other hand, Izuna basked in the attention, exaggerating and spinning tales of brutality that would have made their elders weep.

So, while his brother may have looked down on tall, ornate walls protecting the city with excitement and glee, Madara simply felt distaste and a grim sense of determination in the absence of Izuna’s presence. 

They had finally made it to the capital, and his brother was in there somewhere.

Their only problem now was how to get in. 

Notes:

I'm so sorry it's been so long, I started working full time over the summer and I guess I didn't fully gather how full time full time actually meant.

BUT! I'm back and and excited to continue this story. (Expect updates approx every two weeks at the moment)

I know a ton doesn't happen in this chap but we're reaching the setting for the next bit of action, the capital!! I'm excited to show my interpretation of it since there's been a lot of fan interpretations of a place that hasn't really been discussed in canon.

Stay tuned ya'll and thanks for sticking with me so far!

Chapter 18: In which Kakashi is allergic to emotions

Notes:

I'M SO SORRY!
I realise i kinda just didn't update or respond to comments for months and ahhhh i'm sorry! real life kinda had been kicking me up the ass, third year of uni is no joke.
I didn't write for a while so i apologise if this chapter isn't quite up to my normal standards, but needed to get into the feel of the characters again so uhh yeah.

anyways, heres 5.7k words of kakashi trying to flirt with madara while simultaneously being allergic to his own emotions. bonus very self indulgent oops there's only one bed trope.

cw//unhealthy thought patterns?? idk if needs a warning but uhh my guy is not dealing with things in a particularly healthy way at the moment
things will get better soon i promise :))

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It wasn’t difficult to get into the city. The capital may present a formidable front with its towering golden walls and heavily guarded entrances, but Kakashi had done it so many times during his ANBU missions that finding the secret paths into the city was a walk in the park. 

In the north of the city were the slums, densely packed streets overcrowded with people coming to the prosperous city in hopes of partaking in some of that wealth. While most were disappointed, there was still a thriving economy of smuggling migrants through the great golden walls of the capital, so much so that even their bedraggled group with not much more than 500 ryo between them were able to pay for the use of one of the shadier tunnels leading into the northern edge of the city. 

When he suggested the smuggler's route into the city, the others looked a bit askance. He supposed it was a bit too lowbrow for the high-ranked clan-born shinobi, or perhaps they were just surprised he knew his way around the capital. Either way, they took his suggestion, and soon they were crawling on hard-packed dirt underneath the golden walls they had so recently admired. 

He had thought about summoning his ninken for an extra layer of protection as they snuck into the city, but a quick check of his chakra levels found him hovering dangerously close to chakra exhaustion, not to mention civilians might not see his pack of clothed talking dogs as inconspicuous. 

The tunnels didn’t really have much room for extra bodies either. They were rather claustrophobic; if Kakashi hadn’t been there before, he might be a bit more uneasy. He thought this was a much more accurate entrance to the golden city honestly, it was a welcome familiarity really. While civilians were meant to stay out of shinobi politics, shinobi certainly didn’t stay out of civilian ones. Many wealthy families had determined that the easiest way to stay ahead in the glitzy world of the capital was to hire a sneaky someone to take care of whatever rival was challenging them. 

They weren’t the most glorious of jobs, but they paid well, and someone had to do them. Usually, Kakashi or whichever other unlucky jounin got on the wrong side of the mission desk nin.

He didn’t actually mind these missions for the most part; they gave him a chance to get out of Konoha, and the city was full of fun. Drinking, gambling, and willing bodies that didn’t know his name or reputation. Though he didn’t take those missions much anymore, they certainly weren’t the types of missions his cute little students needed to be experiencing.

Gods, he missed them.

Kakashi rubbed his temple, the pressure a slight relief to the headache that had been brewing ever since they left Konoha. He was tired, and still had way too many questions that no one but Obito could answer. 

And the constant complaining of his compatriots was not helping.

“Are we almost there?” Hashirama enquired for about the fifth time. 

Kakashi could practically hear Madara grinding his teeth together as the man snapped out a reply, “No, Hashirama, I think you’ll be able to tell when we get there and aren’t crawling through the dirt like animals.”

Did he mention that Madara had been very much against going underground?

The Uchiha had been glaring a hole in the back of his head the entire time they’d been down here, citing that they were clan heads and, therefore, were above paying criminals to get them in. Eventually, however, Madara’s desperation to just get into the city won out over his pride, and he seemed to have been comforting himself by trying to set Kakashi’s hair on fire with the power of his stare.

They should be there soon anyway. The child who had taken their money and showed them the tunnel was said it let out right by the Northern Market, which, if Kakashi could recall correctly, was only a few blocks from the wall.

“Are we there now? ” Hashirama tried again, causing the tunnel to physically heat up slightly as Madara flared his chakra in agitation.

No ,” Tobirama’s growled single-word reply seemed to hush the older Senju. 

Mito sighed, “I want to bathe once we get there. My clothes are covered in mud…” 

Kakashi felt another sharp pain shoot through his head. It was almost as bad as his genin. 

Thankfully, before Kakashi’s patience had frayed too much around the edges he spotted the light at the end of the tunnel, literally. They had finally reached the end of the passageway. 

He scrambled into the bright daylight and helped the others out of the concealed hole. They found themselves on the edge of the market as promised, tucked behind a fishmonger's stand who gave them a knowing look and waved them away as soon as they were all out. 

The area in front of the market was packed with people doing their morning shopping or other business. It was noisy with hawkers trying to sell their wares and the loud bartering with buyers that ensued.

“Come on,” Kakashi jerked his head towards the market, “The other side of the market is a bit quieter and more discreet if we’re spotted.” 

Mito wrinkled her nose at the sharp scents surrounding them, “It smells .” 

Madara gave a harsh bark of laughter, sneering at the Uzumaki, “Well, that does tend to happen when you leave your palace, princess.”

Hashirama frowned at him, “Come on, Madara, There's no need to be so rude. Mito gave up a lot to help us.” 

Madara’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he opened his mouth to snarl a reply, “Well, maybe if- “

 “Stop it. There’s no use in being at each other’s throats over nothing.” Tobirama cut him off sharply.

Kakashi watched as the Uchiha wrinkled his nose and turned away with a huff, “So shall we?” 

With the others giving mixed levels of acknowledgement and agreement, he led them once again through the market. The market was a cacophony to the senses, especially to his own enhanced sense of smell. The scents of spices, animals, and the overlying stench of so many humans in one place was overwhelming. Normally, Kakashi would be breathing through his mouth in an attempt to avoid the painful jolt to his nose. However, this was better than anything he’d smelled in the last few days. The thick haze of the swamp had soaked its way into his pores and clothing, making everything stink of rot and decay, things that were not pleasant to smell in the best of times, let alone when all he could picture in his mind was the impossibility of Obito. Was he rotting under that mask? If Kakashi took it off, would there even be a face that he recognised? Or had that been left under the rocks where Kakashi left him along with the Uchiha’s sanity? 

Not that Kakashi blamed him; he was surprised he still had his own sanity after all. His stomach clenched, and he felt slightly sick as he contemplated his friend's past.

Madara had chosen yet again to hover directly behind him, an odd expression on his face that could have been disgust, concern, or an outlandish mixture of the two. Kakashi knew the Uchiha didn’t trust him; any shred that had been gained was lost when Obito called his name, but it still hurt to be treated like someone who needed to be watched constantly. 

Especially after what the Uchiha had said in the cave. 

(What did he mean? Why would he want to trust Kakashi? Why would anyone want to trust Kakashi?)

He brushed aside the tornado of emotions digging their claws into his chest and refocused on the here and now. What was important was fixing the mess he’d made. 

The market wasn’t particularly large, but it was ridiculously dense. People were everywhere, children were running underfoot, and a few stray dogs barked in the background as Kakashi led his companions through the busy stalls. Despite stopping briefly for Hashirama to purchase an apple with the few remaining Ryo they had, they soon found themselves on the other side of the market, a bit further from the wall and closer to the heart of the city. This was the main communal centre of the slums, with stores of both legal and non-legal means lining the narrow streets and various pubs and restaurants tucked into the gaps in between.

Kakashi noted with amusement that one of the pubs was one he’d been into before; he supposed some things never changed.

“Well? Where do we start looking?” Madara demanded, scanning the crowd with narrowed eyes like a man possessed. 

Tobirama raised a pale brow incredulously, “We start by looking for a place to sleep and clean ourselves up. We look like we just crawled in the dirt for 20 minutes.”

“Which we did!” Hashirama added helpfully. 

Tobirama’s lips thinned, “Yes, thank you, brother. I didn’t realise that was what we actually did.” 

Madara sneered widely, a mean glint in his eyes, “Weren’t you the one just arguing for us to get along, Senju?” 

Kakashi stepped in between the two before things could escalate, feeling the slight bits of chakra starting to crackle in the air, “Alright, let’s find somewhere to rest. I think we should get some sleep and start our search at night; we’ll be much less conspicuous.” 

His head was spinning, he was on the brink of chakra exhaustion, and the founders of Konoha were acting like children. He certainly didn’t think he would need to play Jounin-sensei to the fucking shodaime and nidaime Hokage. 

Mito nodded her agreement, “We can get some disguises tonight, too, we’ll have to do something about our clothes. They stick out a bit.” 

Kakashi grimaced, not looking forward to being without his flak jacket. Though he acknowledged that it did stick out in the capital, especially in this era.

Hashirama was glancing nervously between his brother and Madara, who were still glaring daggers at each other, “Perhaps we should split up then to find an inn? Then reconvene tonight?”

Madara glared at the brown-haired Senju, “No, we shouldn't split up; what if they find some of us? Or we have to flee? We need to stick together. I’m not leaving any of you.” 

Hashirama looked a little taken aback by Madara’s vehemence that they stick together, “A-ah ok Madara, we’ll look for an inn together then.”

Kakashi wondered at the tinge of desperation that had seeped into the Uchiha’s tone at the notion of splitting up and at the relieved relaxation in his face when Hashirama had acquiesced. The jounin wondered if Madara was actually as angry as he seemed and was perhaps nervous about losing anyone else instead.

It would be hypocritical to criticise him however, Kakashi knew he would tear apart this city rather than lose anyone else of the little group that was all he had left of his world.

(He had to fix things; he had to fix what he’d broken)

Mito glanced around with barely concealed distaste at the street, “Will we even find an inn here? It seems to be an, ah, difficult part of town.” 

Kakashi shook himself out of his thoughts, something he seemed to be doing a bit too much lately, and gave her a wide smile that turned his eyes into crescents, “Ah, Mito-chan, the shadier the area, the more likely there are to be inns that won’t tell anyone you’re there. A little bit of confidentiality does wonders for business in these areas.” 

Mito quirked a brow at him, “I suppose you know some in this area, then?” 

He nodded with a wink, “But of course, I wouldn’t lead you here for nothing.” 

Kakashi gestured to an alleyway tucked behind the pub he had recognised earlier. If the pub was still there, the Hog’s Head Inn was likely to be hidden behind it as well. Jumping over a small puddle of suspicious liquid on the ground, he turned around a small bend in the alley and was greeted with the familiar red shutters of his favourite resting point in the capital. Well, perhaps favourite was putting it a bit strongly.

“That's it?” Madara’s disbelieving question came from behind him. 

He nodded and looked sideways at the Uchiha with a teasing gleam in his eye, “What, not posh enough for such a great clan leader, Madara-chan?” 

Madara scowled, “I was just expecting something a little... bigger.” 

Kakashi shrugged. He supposed the Hog’s Head didn’t make a great first impression. The dilapidated building, even in this time, was tilted to the side, leaning against the building next to it with an almost drunken slump. The red shuttered windows were chipped and crooked, and one appeared completely shattered. Outside the entrance was a single potted plant which was very much dead. 

In other words, it was the perfect place to lay low.

Despite the other’s doubtful looks, Kakashi pressed on and pushed open the door with a creak. In the somewhat dingy lobby was a young woman sitting at a desk; she looked up at his entrance, quickly cataloguing the dirt on his clothes and the open-toed sandals he had on his feet. He stepped further into the inn to let the others enter with him. Mito stifled a disapproving noise as she examined the curtains and Hashirama was carrying the plant from outside in his arms, cooing at it like a child. 

Kakashi sighed. He couldn't take them anywhere, could he?

The clerk finished scanning them and met Kakashi’s eyes with a slight downward slant to her mouth, “Don’t get blood on the floor, shinobi-san.” 

He gave her a wide smile, raising his hands in an innocent gesture, “Don’t worry, we’re not here on business of that sort.” 

She made a doubtful noise before pulling a large logbook from inside the desk and flipping to a page somewhere in the middle, “We only have three rooms. They’re yours if you can pay for them.”  

Ah. That may be an issue; he glanced back at his companions for some help. Mito stepped forward, pulling something shiny out of her pocket, “Will this cover a few nights?” 

The clerk's eyes widened at the golden brooch in the Uzumaki’s hands, “Normally, we only accept Ryo, but I suppose we can make an exception.”

Mito dropped the brooch on the desk with a clatter, causing the clerk to wince and instantly snatch up the precious metal, “How many nights does this get us?” 

The woman glanced up from her inspection of the jewellery with a greedy, calculating glint in her eye, “Well, normally, I would say only two nights, but if you have any more gold, we may be able to negotiate a longer stay...” 

Kakashi stepped forward again to lean against the desk beside Mito, “I think we both know that that brooch is enough to let us stay for as long as we want, hmm?”

He tapped a long finger on the desk delicately, letting a tiny bit of chakra crackle out and burn a small circle in the light wood of the desk.

The clerk blanched slightly, watching the tiny curl of smoke rise from her desk. “Y-yes, I suppose so.”

He patted her hand, watched her flinch away and figured his job was done, “So those rooms?” 

She hastily pulled out three keys and placed them on the table. 

Mito snatched up one of them in an instant, “Is there a bathing facility in the room?” 

Still a bit pale, the clerk nodded hastily, “There’s running water in the sinks, and we can provide a basin as well.” 

“I suppose that will have to do,” Mito sighed dramatically before fixing Kakashi with a judgemental stare, “I hope you know I blame you for this, Kakashi. I could be clean and dry back in Uzushio right now...

He grinned mildly at her, “Ah, but what’s the excitement in that?”

She snorted and shouldered past him towards the stairs, “We should meet back here at sundown.” 

The Senju brothers nodded their agreement before taking a key themselves and followed Mito towards the stairs.

“Make sure you get some rest, yeah?” Hashirama paused at the base of the stairs, looking back towards Madara with big dark eyes, “We’ll fix this, Madara, don’t worry.” 

The Uchiha fixed his friend with an unreadable gaze and nodded, quickly jerking his eyes away from the concerned Senju.

Hashirama nodded once and followed his brother up the stairs, concern once again fixated on the plant cradled in his arms. Kakashi noted it now had one singular green leaf sprouting upwards.

He tore his gaze away from the Senju as Madara suddenly made a strangled noise of alarm. The Uchiha was flicking his gaze between the last key and Kakashi with wide eyes.

“W-wait, there’s only one more key?” Madara stammered, fists balled tightly in his mud-covered mantle.

Kakashi tilted his head at the Uchiha in amusement, “Well, she did say three rooms, Madara-chan, that’s typically how numbers work.” 

The clan leader crossed his arms defensively and stared at the key like it had betrayed him, “I didn’t want to share a room with you. ” 

Kakashi ignored how that actually hurt a tiny bit and narrowed his eye at Madara, “Well, you’re welcome to sleep outside if you’d like, but I’m going to take the nice warm bed.”

He was so tired, dammit, and Madara was being difficult.

The Uchiha pursed his lips and turned to the clerk, “There has to be another room.” 

She stared at him for a moment, seemingly trying to balance a healthy fear of shinobi and the inherent irritation of dealing with a demanding customer, “You’ve seen how small the inn is, right? We don’t have that many rooms, and it’s been busy. Lots of your type are coming to the city lately. There’s no more rooms.” 

Madara bristled and glared at her.

The woman at the desk raises her eyebrow, “Look, I can’t change the physical dimensions of the inn. I don’t bend reality like you shinobi. Do you want the room or not?”

Kakashi quickly coughed and stepped forward in front of Madara, who, by the looks of it, was about to burn the desk down, “Yes, that’s fine, sorry about him, he gets a bit grumpy after travel.” 

Ignoring Madara’s indigent hand gestures, the clerk pushes the last key forward, “Rooms top floor, first on the left. Enjoy.” 

“Come on,” Kakashi hisses, grabbing the Uchiha’s wrist and tugging him up the stairs. 

The stairs are rickety, and Kakashi vaguely worries about their stability for a moment as one creaks ominously under his sandals. The walls of the hotel appear to be similarly shabby, with paint peeling in the corners and the lone painting in the hallway the stairs let onto titled at a sharp angle towards the floor.

The door the clerk indicated as theirs is dark brown, with a rusty stain at the very bottom that makes Kakashi very glad he wasn’t barefoot. He wondered why the woman had told them not to get blood on the floor if it was already so badly stained.

Feeling his companion practically vibrating with anger, Kakashi dropped Madara’s wrist to quickly unlock the door and shove the Uchiha in before he could make more of a scene. 

“I am not staying here.” 

Kakashi ignored Madara’s heated remark and instead locked the door and began to rustle through what was in the room in search of any evidence of tampering. 

“Did you hear me?” The Uchiha continued incredulously, “I’m not staying in here with you.” 

Finding nothing too suspicious, Kakashi finally turned to face the angry man in the room with him. Madara had sprawled back on the bed, arms supporting him from behind and a leg tossed over the other. 

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, “Where else would you like to stay then? You were the one who proclaimed we should all stick together.”

Madara wrinkled his nose in irritation, “I meant in the same inn, not the same room.” 

The jounin shrugged at his irritated companion and instead walked over to the window, closing the shutters as far as they would go, throwing the room into dimmer light a little more appropriate for sleeping, “We should get some rest before heading out tonight.”

Madara grunted an agreement, sulkily glaring at the double bed they had to share, “You better not snore.” 

He smirked, letting his eyes curve into crescents, “Don’t worry, I won't make any noise unless you want me to.” 

Madara flushed a bright red, and his eyes widened as he sputtered through a response, “S-shut up!” 

Kakashi let his eye close halfway to look at Madara through his lashes, “I can be quiet too if you’d like.” 

Madara reacted precisely the way Kakashi was probing for by blushing even harder and fleeing to the bathroom with the muttered excuse of getting ready for bed.

With the room to himself briefly, Kakashi sank onto the bed heavily, laying across it fully and letting his arms splay widely on either side of himself. He didn’t know exactly how the next few days would go, but messing with Madara was an awfully easy way of cheering him up.

It also had the added bonus of preventing the man from asking any more uncomfortable questions or -ugh– doing the emotion thing that made Kakashi’s chest ache a bit. It was deflection, to be certain, but since when had deflection let him down?

When Madara returned, refusing to look at him, Kakashi ventured into the bathroom himself. It wasn’t very large, though he didn’t expect it to be, and at least had the simple luxury of running water. Say what you want about the capital, but there were some benefits to centralised utilities that the rural clans hadn’t quite gotten around to yet.

He shrugged out of his outer layers, they desperately needed to be washed, and splashed some water on his face from the sink underneath the mirror. He made the mistake of looking at his reflection and winced. He looked dreadful . The silver hair he was normally so proud of was dirty and thin, falling over his hitai-ate in a limp curtain. Bags lined his eyes, dark circles that were stark against his pale skin. He pushed up the band onto his forehead to look at his eyes. They were mismatched as usual, one dull grey and the other the crimson and black he had been gifted so long ago. Kakashi reached out a hand to the mirror, touching where Obito's eye reflected back at him.

He noted absently his hand was shaking. He must be more tired than he thought. 

He slid off the hitai-ate fully, letting his bangs flop over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at them and instead looked down to examine the band in his hands. The leaf stared back at him judgmentally. Kakashi slipped the band into a pocket where he didn’t have to look at it anymore.

He wondered if Obito kept his hitai-ate or destroyed it. Or if it, too had been crushed under the rocks.

Leaving just his trousers and sleeveless undershirt with its connected mask, he walked back into the room. Perhaps tonight would help him find answers to the questions still flying around his head.

Madara blinked at his entrance for a moment, eyes skating over his exposed skin before greeting him with a small, puzzled tilt to his head, “You really never take the mask off, do you?”

The jounin looked at the Uchiha through the bangs that had fallen into his face with both eyes open, “Hmm, are you curious, Madara-chan?” 

The dark-haired man looked away with a slight flush, “I was just pointing something out. You don’t have to make everything difficult.” 

Kakashi strode forward to stand at the end of the bed, “Who said I was being difficult, Madara-chan, perhaps I’m merely asking a question.” 

Madara still refused to meet his gaze, dark eyes pointedly not looking at Kakashi or his exposed arms, “Shut up and get in bed.” 

“So demanding,” Kakashi sighed, walking around to the other side of the bed and sliding under the covers gracefully, “It’s rare that someone says that phrase to me in complete seriousness.”

Madara pointedly ignored him and fluffed his pillow slightly before laying down, back firmly facing Kakashi. The jounin pouted; he had hoped to flirt talk with him a bit longer. He sighed before closing his eyes and shifting a bit to try and get comfortable. The bed wasn’t exactly large, and he did his best to avoid brushing against the other man in the bed with him. Judging by how tense Madara had been the entire time they’d been in this room, that wouldn’t exactly go over well. 

Kakashi got it. He wouldn't want to share a bed with someone he didn’t trust either. He refused to think about the implications that he didn’t mind sharing a bed with Uchiha Madara. 

(He certainly didn’t trust him; that would be foolish. Wouldn't it?)

He shifted on the bed, shoulder brushing against Madara for a moment. Even through the Uchiha’s long-sleeved shirt, Kakashi could feel him radiating warmth like a furnace, something he remembered Obito doing as well on the rare occasions he allowed his teammates to sleep close to him. He had been so arrogant back then. 

Lost in memories, he barely noticed that Madara had yet to pull away, even going as far as to press slightly closer against his side. His head felt heavier, and his thoughts slowed to syrup as sleep sank its claws into his weary soul. It was nice to sleep in a warm bed again, he thought drowsily. 

“I can’t sleep.” 

Kakashi was jolted out of his state of almost sleep by Madara’s uncharacteristically quiet voice. Stifling a groan, he turned to face him. The man was a harsh dark outline through the dim light streaming into the room. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He tried, voice low and slightly slurred with tiredness.

“No.” 

Kakashi sighed, “Then close those lovely eyes of yours and go to bed; we have a lot to do this evening if you can’t remember.” 

The silver-haired nin felt his eyes slipping closed again, and he didn’t fight them.

There was rustling in the bed as Madara shifted. 

“Why do you do that?” Madara’s voice was quiet again and frustrated, as if Kakashi had offended him in some way. 

His eyes blinked open again only to widen at the sight of Uchiha’s face mere inches from his own, “What are you doing?”

Madara narrowed his eyes at him, “I don’t understand you.” 

Kakashi thought that was rather hypocritical, as he was having a hard time understanding what the hell Madara was doing at the moment, “Madara, you’re welcome to try and pick me apart in any way you want later, perhaps after we’ve slept?”

Madara’s face was so close to him that Kakashi could see the small lines that formed at the corners of his mouth as the Uchiha frowned at him, “ That . You just went through a traumatic experience, and then suddenly, a day later, you’re doing this . My brother’s missing and I can’t stop thinking about what might be happening to him. How do you just- just brush over everything that’s happened!” 

Madara’s voice had risen into a loud hiss by the end of his sentence, breath washing over Kakashi’s face in a distracting way.

The jounin almost wished he had shared a room with the Senju brothers instead. At least that way he wouldn't have to deal with an angry Uchiha who seemed determined to pick apart every aspect of the facade he thought he had perfected since he was a child. He knew he didn’t have the healthiest ways to deal with things, but he had heard enough from Inoichi and certainly didn’t need Uchiha Madara of all people to talk to him about unhealthy coping mechanisms. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” He tried. Perhaps Madara would take the hint.

His luck seemed to have run out as Madara huffed out a frustrated breath, “Please, my whole family is dead or missing, my home burned to the ground, my clan doesn't trust me, and the only people I can trust at the moment are my clan’s ancestral enemies, a spoiled princess with no stakes in the issue, and you. I think I have some level of understanding about being in a difficult situation.” 

Kakashi blinked, “You trust me?”

Madara let out a single choked breath of laughter, “ That's all you got out of that?”

“Madara, I’m...” He paused, suddenly very uncomfortable with how vulnerable this was forcing him to be, “Can we please talk about this later?” 

Madara chuckled lowly again, this time thicker and closer to a sob than a laugh, “I don’t know what to do, Hatake. How am I supposed to take on someone who took down bloody Hashirama!”

He winced; the Uchiha seemed dangerously close to tears.

 Kakashi didn’t do tears. 

“Would it help if I told you about what we’re up against?” The jounin shifted uncomfortably. As much as he didn’t want to talk about his old teammate, anything was preferable to the notion of Uchiha Madara practically crying in his arms.

Madara sighed slightly and turned his head into his pillow, a stray tuft of hair brushing against Kakashi’s cheek, “Fine, I suppose if that’s all I can get out of you tonight.” 

Kakashi bit back his instinctual retort about how Madara could get much more pleasurable things out of him if he really wanted to and instead resigned himself to talking about Obito, “Obito was a childhood friend, I suppose, we trained together.” 

Madara hummed an acknowledgement, “Did the Hatake clan take him in then?”

Ah, he had forgotten that was supposed to be a part of his cover story, “Not exactly, we lived in the same area, and the clan elders thought we would balance each other out. There was a third kunoichi who trained with us as well.” 

His heart hurt slightly at the thought of Rin, and his hand felt sticky with blood for a brief flash. 

“Obito was a fool. He was weak, idealistic, and never took anything seriously.” Kakashi recounted, flashes of memories playing over in his head, fuzzy from the time before he had the sharingan to preserve things perfectly, “He was also brave, loyal, and kind.”

Madara made a disgruntled noise, “Then how the hell was he strong enough to take on Hashirama? And why did he take Izuna?” 

This was a part of the saga that was bothering Kakashi as well. He had no idea how the Obito he knew had done the things he’d seen. 

Hell, he had no idea how Obito was even alive. He thought back to the few words they’d exchanged in the burning village. Obito implied that he knew Kakashi had activated his mangekyou, was that because his own activated when Kakashi’s did? Or because he physically saw Kakashi activate it. He tensed slightly as he thought about what that meant, that Obito had seen Kakashi murder the girl he was in love with. 

His chest hurt again.

Madara seemed to grow irritated with his lack of answer and poked his bicep with a bit of force, “Oi, Hatake, don’t go to sleep yet. We’re talking.” 

Sensing an easy way to end the conversation, Kakashi grabbed the Uchiha’s wrist before he had the chance to pull away, “If you wanted to touch, you just had to ask Madara-chan.”

Madara ripped his hand away with a sharp inhalation of breath, “You-”

“Ah ah, I do have a name, you know, but you never seem to call me by it,” Kakashi put a little bit of his pout into his voice, “It’s not that hard, only three syllables, just like yours Ma-da-ra!”

“Hatake-” 

“That’s the wrong three syllables.” 

Madara exhaled harshly, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Hatake.”

Kakashi hummed teasingly, “What am I doing, Madara-chan~?” 

The corners of the dark-haired man’s lips twitched downwards, “You’re deflecting. That’s all you’ve done since we met you. You seem to be allergic to the truth.” 

Kakashi turned back onto his back, staring at the ceiling instead of the much too perceptive Uchiha peering at him through the hazy light seeping into the room, “Ah, perhaps you’re right, Madara-chan, but is that such a bad thing? The truth is so ugly .” 

Madara shifted on the bed again, mirroring Kakashi’s position, “Yeah, but you can’t change the truth. You can only choose how you deal with it.” 

Kakashi was quiet momentarily, wanting to choose his words carefully, “Obito is an impossibility. He should be dead. I saw him die.” 

Madara was blissfully silent, letting Kakashi put thoughts into words slowly. 

“He gave me his sharingan as he died. I have no idea how he’s alive or what happened to him to make him want to destroy the village.” 

“How did he even know about it? It’s not like Hashirama, and I ever planned on actually making the village until the daimyo drove us too...” Madara pondered, thankfully not pressing on the circumstances of Obito’s death. 

“We should get some sleep.” Kakashi shifted again, this time subtly pressing his shoulder against Madara’s, hopefully in a way that read as unintentional to the Uchiha. 

He felt his eyes grow heavier again, and the sleep he had been seeking for days finally took him in its grasp and pulled him under. For a moment, in the haze between the waking world and slumber, he could have sworn he heard Madara sigh his name, his first name, and wish him goodnight. 

But that would be foolish, a reality that was not Kakashi’s to wish for.

Right?

Notes:

I promise it won't be months until the next update haha, attempting nanowrimo with this fic so we'll see what happens 🤪I also wanted to thank everyone who's reading this and all the kind word you've left, reading through some of the comments helped me kick myself into gear writing again and I really appreciate it 💛💛

I kinda may have spend some time while trying to write this chapter sketching out a rough sequel and i really need to control my impulses because i have i d e a s ~

also updated the tags because the last few chapters have definitely gotten a bit darker than i foresaw and our boys are definitely not the most reliable of narrators.
_____

Kakashi: i wonder why madara is staring at me, its probably cause doesn't trust me
Madara: oh boy he looks like he's about to keel over, maybe if i stand next to him i can catch him if he falls, is that weird oh god thats weird maybe i'll just glare at him until he looks more alive instead

Mito: I am a Princess, this is below me
Hashirama: hell ye you are ma'am let me get you a glass of sparkling water

Madara: *low key panicking and trying to have a serious conversation*
Kakashi: ima not touch that with a ten foot pole, may i interest you in some flirting instead?

Chapter 19: In which Madara deals with fascination

Notes:

me? meeting my one a week update goal? who is she?

CW// slight mention of eye trauma

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Madara was pretty sure he was dreaming.

He was warm, and everything was hazily bright in a way they hadn’t seemed since he was a child.

He was sitting on his porch in the village, drinking tea with Hashirama. His friend looked relaxed and the small worry lines that had become a tad too entrenched in his face weren’t there. Instead, his face was smooth and relaxed as he laughed loudly at something Madara thinks he said. 

For some reason he couldn’t quite hear his laugh, it was like his head was wrapped in fabric.

He raised his cup of tea to his lips and blinked to see it was empty. When he set it down to refill, he was suddenly not on his porch. Instead, he was by the koi pond in the old Uchiha compound, with his brother standing in the middle of the pool, somehow completely dry. 

He tried to call his name but all that came out was static that curled its way up his head and into his ears. 

Izuna smirked at him, gesturing around himself, “Are you proud of yourself Madara?” 

Madara knew his brother was talking, could hear his voice whisper soft, and yet couldn't see his lips moving. 

Everything was still too bright, a white tinge to the world that was starting to seem sterile and cold rather than light and nostalgic.

He blinked to try and clear some of the bright haze that surrounded the pond. This wasn’t right.

When he opened his eyes, he had once again moved, to the cliffside overlooking the village this time.

He looked around and found Kakashi sitting on the edge of the cliff, staring out over the village with his hair blowing slightly in a breeze that Madara couldn't feel himself. 

“Hatake,” He called, surprised when his voice came out whole this time.

The man didn’t twitch at the sound of Madara’s voice. 

He called again, trying to take a step but was unable to. It felt like his feet were stuck in honey, sticky and slow. He tried to trudge towards the cliffside but failed to move an inch. 

The wind that he couldn’t feel suddenly picked up, ripping away his voice before it could leave his throat and tearing away the static from his ears until all he could hear was the roar of rushing wind. It buffeted him from all sides, and suddenly, he was grateful for the honey anchoring his feet. 

He fell to his knees at the force of the storm, watching with wide eyes as Kakashi still sat on the cliff not moving. 

He had to warn him about the wind, why wasn’t he moving?

Then, finally, Kakashi turned his head towards Madara. 

His sigh of relief turned into a choked noise of horror at what he saw. 

Instead of his normal eyes- those beautiful, mismatched eyes that had enraptured him so -there were dark holes. Pits that dripped blood down the silver-haired nin’s pale face.

He choked back a strangled gasp. 

“What’s wrong Madara?” 

Somehow, Kakashi’s voice was still perfectly audible through the wind, cutting through it like butter until it pooled in Madara’s ears. 

The Uchiha couldn't speak, wide horrified eyes tracing the crimson as it dripped over scarred flesh. 

Kakashi tilted his head, causing a drop of blood to fall onto his shoulder, “Don’t act so surprised, it’s all your fault you know.” 

His last sentence echoed, picked up by the wind and shoved into Madara’s head until he felt it would burst. It wasn’t just Kakashi’s voice either, it was Izuna’s, Hashirama’s, Hikaku’s, Takara’s, and countless others. 

Madara screamed.

And jolted awake, breathing loudly in the silent room he found himself in. His heart was stuttering in a way that couldn't be healthy, and his skin felt damp with sweat, causing his shirt to cling uncomfortably.

He shivered at the feeling and let his eyes fly around the room to get a sense of grounding, carefully controlling his breaths until they weren’t hanging ragged in the air.

Madara hadn’t had a nightmare in a very long time, he tried not to let himself sleep long enough for them to occur. Maybe Hikaku was onto something when he complained about his clan leader’s unhealthy sleeping habits...

He stared blankly at the ceiling, cataloguing the little cracks in the wooden beams as his heart began to beat a normal tempo again. As he started to return to himself, he realised he was warm. 

And not just in the sweaty-just-woke-up-from-a-nightmare way.

Madara was often warm, part of the problem with having such a strong fire chakra nature, but this wasn’t the same. This wasn’t the sweaty heat of embers trapped beneath his skin, this was almost cosy, like sitting by the hearth. Like when he and Izuna had tried to teach Hikaru how to bake cookies and ended up with charcoal instead. Their father had made them eat them anyway to teach them not to mess with the kitchen.

It said something that that was one of his fonder memories about his father. 

He blinked once and decided it was safe to look away from the ceiling. Turning his head to the side, his eyes widened at the sight of a limb draped halfway over his shoulder.

Ah. That was the source of warmth then. 

He sighed, quietly in hopes not to disturb his companion further than he already had. He was surprised that his nightmare hadn’t woken up the normally alert shinobi, but then he recalled how dead on his feet Kakashi looked. It really had been a while since either of them had truly slept a full night. 

Well, full day in this case. Madara noted the light in the room from earlier had fled, leaving the room dark as evening seemed to have fallen. Hazy darkness shrouded much of the room; only small slivers of twilight light peeked through the shudders softly illuminating the room. 

His eyes fell upon his companion again without his permission, Kakashi looked younger when he was asleep, no lines at the corners of his eyes and soft tufts of hair falling over the scar covering his sharingan. Madara couldn't help but brush one of them out of his face, freezing for a moment when the silver-haired nin shifted slightly at the light touch. Laying this close he could see that even his eyelashes were silver, fine, and long like spider silk. Madara wanted to touch them and see if they were as soft as his hair was. There was a lot about this stupid, troublesome, annoying, mess of a shinobi that he wondered about.

Madara was fascinated by the other man, in a way that he hadn’t been in a long time. It was less of a revelation and more of a dull understanding that this had been there for quite some time and that he really just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.

He still didn’t really. He wasn’t sure why he felt this way, or why he was so drawn in by Kakashi’s odd mannerisms and attributes. Why he wanted to know more and more about what had happened to him.

It scared him a little bit.

Uchiha’s didn’t trust easily. So how had this man that Madara had known for such a short period of time wormed his way through his defences and into a position where all Madara wanted was to see him in his bed again?

Trust was tricky, especially when the other man was in a position to test it so readily. Madara knew he wasn’t being told the whole truth, he doubted that he ever would.

But at this point, he felt there was very little about Kakashi that could truly surprise him. 

Soft, he thought with resigned bitterness, he was going soft. He selfishly let himself enjoy the warmth of the bed, and it’s occupant for a little longer, watching the sliver of light grow darker and darker. 

A sudden pounding on the door knocked any clinging remnants of sleep from his brain like a rock to the head.

“Oi! Uchiha, Hatake!” Mito’s voice called through the thick wood, “You awake?” 

Beside him Kakashi turned his head to groan into his pillow, hands reaching up to cover his ears in a way that stretched his exposed triceps in a way that had Madara jumping out of bed as quickly as he could. Seeing the man fully asleep was one thing, but Madara would rather deal with the Uzumaki than deal with the feelings that seeing him awake, blinking sleepily and bare-armed in his bed gave him.

He opened the door a crack, peering through with a narrowed eye, “What do you want? We're supposed to meet in the lobby, aren’t we?” 

She hummed an agreement, a cool smile pasted across her face, “Yeah we were. About an hour ago.” 

Madara winced.

Mito snorted, ”Yeah that’s what I thought. It’s fine, Hashirama said to let you guys sleep for a bit, but we do really have to go now.”

“Thanks,” He nodded at her begrudgingly, before flicking his eyes to the brown paper bag the princess had clutched in her hands, “What’s that?”

Mito’s smile turned downright evil, “Give this to Kakashi for me, will you? It’s to help with his disguise.” 

Madara took the bag and gave it a doubtful shake, rattling whatever was inside, “Fine, we’ll be down shortly.”

Mito nodded, turning to head back down the hall, “We have some clothes for you in the lobby as well. Both of you.” 

Madara scowled, he didn’t like the idea of leaving his mantle in this less-than-reputable place. Though he figured parading around the capital with an Uchiwa fan literally painted across his back wasn’t the best idea.

“Was that Mito?” 

The voice came right by his ear, causing Madara to spin around with wide eyes. 

“Shit Hatake, don’t startle me like that!” He growled at the silver-haired shinobi who had somehow appeared right behind him. 

Kakashi gave one of those annoying eye smiles that Madara was getting really tired of. It meant that he was trying to be a little shit, and was most often succeeding.

“Not my fault you didn’t notice me Madara-chan, you should really work on your situational awareness.” Kakashi tilted his head cheekily.

Madara glowered at him, how was this the same person he had just practically been cuddling? 

“Well since you’re up now, here.” He thrust the bag into Kakashi’s arms, ignoring the graze of his hands on the other's bare forearms. 

Kakashi blinked at the bag, opened it up, and somehow grew even paler than he already was. 

Now Madara was regretting giving up the bag before peeking into it, “Well? What is it?” 

Kakashi winced, “Beetles.” 

Madara gave a startled bark of laughter, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Beetles,” Kakashi repeated, a horrified note in his voice, “She gave me beetles.” 

“Why on earth would she give you a bag of beetles?” Madara puzzled, rubbing the back of his head.

Kakashi took another glance into the bag, shaking his head in slight terror, “Cochineal insects can be crushed with hot water to make red dye.” 

Madara was starting to have a really good feeling about this.

Kakashi glanced up, meeting Madara’s eyes with resigned horror, “She wants me to dye my hair red.” 

The Uchiha couldn't resist and burst out into loud peals of laughter, “By Amaterasu! You’re going to look ridiculous!”

Kakashi shot him a disgruntled glare, “I’m sure you would have to do it too if your hair wasn’t so dark.” 

Madara tossed his hair over his shoulders, preening slightly with the fact that he couldn't dye his hair, “Bet you wish you had my hair now.”

Kakashi looked at him consideringly, “You know if we cut it-” 

No.” Madara cut him off, a small smile playing on his lips, “The moment I let you wield scissors near my hair, I will personally give up clan leadership.”

Kakashi lowered his lashes at him before his hand shot out quick as a whip to twist a lock of thick black hair around a long pale finger, “Hmm you’re right, I like your hair too much to cut it.” 

Madara was aware he was likely as red as a tomato at the moment, but all he could do was stare at the beautiful, puzzling man in front of him with wide eyes. It was moments like this that confused him the most. He knew Kakashi used his flirtation as a defence mechanism, but there were also times when it felt real . When Madara could convince himself how flustered he got was because of something other than humiliation and that the odd fascination he had gained maybe was reciprocated. 

Kakashi tilted his head slightly, eyes studying Madara closely for a moment before he sighed and walked towards the bathroom, “Ah well, maybe I’ll like having red hair.” 

The Uchiha stood frozen for another moment before frowning, “Wait.” 

Kakashi paused in the doorframe, looking back at him with a raised eyebrow, “Yes Madara-chan?” 

Madara looked at the man’s silver hair with a furrowed brow, “What if I like your hair the way it is, too?” 

Kakashi’s jaw loosened slightly, and his eyes went wide with surprise for just an instant before his expression quickly became carefully shuttered again, “Mah, Madara-chan, you shouldn't say things like that; might give people the wrong idea.”

The Uchiha narrowed his eyes in a weak glare, “You literally just said the same thing about my hair you moron.”

The other nin crossed his arms, crushing the paper bag slightly against his side, “So I did.” 

They stared at each other for a moment. Madara was unsure of exactly what to say, and his heart was doing the same stutter that it had when he had woken up from his nightmare. Though this time it felt a little less wrong and scary and more like anticipation.

The moment broke when Kakashi looked away with a lazy droop to his eyelids that Madara knew was just another layer in the complicated facade the complicated nin preferred to his true face. 

Madara swallowed thickly, and grabbed his boots from beside the door, “I’m gonna go downstairs, have fun with your beetles.” 

He fled quickly, making sure not to make eye contact with Kakashi again. The other nin was dangerous to his health he decided. All this blushing, heart racing, and- and emotions , couldn't be good for him. Though he couldn't help but combine the infuriating, annoying, secret-keeping man with the surprised and sleepy one he had seen in this hotel. 

Judging by the bemused looks the Senju brothers sent him, he knew he probably still looked a mess as he emerged in the lobby. The desk clerk seemed to have left for the day, and it was only them in the darkened lobby, an oil lamp on the desk lighting the room in yellow flickering light.

“Where’s Kakashi?” Hashirama questioned, crossing his arms across the plain brown tunic he had somehow sourced. 

“Beetles.” He replied, bending over to tie the loose laces of his boots he had neglected to finish in his haste to leave the room.

Hashirama gave a snort of laughter and grinned, “Ah I see. Mito tried to get Tobi to use them, but he refused.”

Tobirama cleared his throat, “I’m not about to put bugs in my hair when I could just wear a hat.”

Madara blinked, that made a lot of sense, finally looking over at the younger Senju. Tobirama had a similar dull brown tunic to his brother, but with the added addition of a red loosely knit hat that contained all of the albino’s translucently pale hair.

“The beetles were more a prank than anything, unlike some I got up on time and went to the market to do a little shopping,” Mito tossed a bundle of cloth to Madara with a smirk, “Since we have very little money this is all I managed, but it’ll have to do.”

He unfolded the bundle to find a hooded grey cloak-like thing. He bit the side of his cheek, well he supposed it could be worse. 

Shuffling it on over his long sleeve and trousers he flipped up the hood and turned to Hashirama with a raised brow, “Well?”

The Senju looked at him for a moment before pulling on his own hooded cloak over his tunic, “We match!” 

Madara gave his old friend a small smile, he was glad Hashirama was here, though he would never say it to his face.

They waited for a moment before the creaky stairs gave away someone coming down them. Madara waited with bated breath to see the damage the beetles had done to Kakashi’s hair. 

As the current bane of his existence passed into the light of the oil lamp, he released the breath he was holding.

“Huh,” Tobirama’s puzzled noise broke the oddly tense silence. 

Kakashi smiled at them, perfectly shining silver hair still atop his head, “Sorry about the beetles Mito somehow they found their way out the window. They flew all over the place, guess they really didn’t like my choice of inn!” 

Mito looked at him before droning in a deadpan, “They were dead and dried Kakashi.”

The still very silver-haired shinobi cocked his head, “Really? How bizarre.” 

Madara blinked a few times, his chest feeling a little tighter than normal again. He should really see a healer if this keeps up. 

Kakashi carefully avoided Madara’s gaze as he walked over to Mito to receive his own cloak, sharingan covered by what looked like bandages rather than his normal headband. Madara tracked him regardless, hoping his face wasn’t betraying the emotions running through him at the moment. It didn’t mean anything that Kakashi hadn’t dyed his hair, he probably just didn’t want to have red hair. It certainly had nothing to do with Madara.

“Well?” Hashirama cut in brightly, “Where should we start looking for information!”

Tobirama cleared his throat, “There are a few areas we should check, but I really want to stop by the library first.” 

Madara scoffed, the Senju’s idiocy finally distracting him from Kakashi’s presence, “The library ? Really Senju?” 

“Yes Uchiha, the library,” The pale Senju looked unimpressed with Madara’s venom, “Not that you’ve ever been in one before, but they can be quite educational.” 

He choked back the instinctive snarl of annoyance as Mito cut in instead, “In the middle of the night though?” 

The albino gained stars in his eyes, the smile stretching his face gentler than his normal smirk “It doesn't close. They use giant oil lamp chandeliers to light the rooms. It’s incredible ” 

Kakashi tilted his head, “And why do you want to go to the library?”

Hashirama cleared his throat, “There’s some important information we think could be there. It’s also our best shot at getting closer to the palace without arousing suspicion.” 

Madara was itching to get looking, he wanted to scour every inch of the city for his brother. Not spend hours in some musty library.

Kakashi pulled on the brown cloak and flipped up the hood, a glint in his eyes that Madara wasn’t sure he liked, “The palace huh, you think they’re keeping Izuna in the dungeons?” 

Hashirama shrugged, eyes flickering over to Madara with concern, “Well it makes sense, it’s one of the most secure places in the capital.”

Madara clenched his hands in the rough fabric of his cloak, knuckles turning white with force. The thought of his brother in some dark dungeon was a painful one. He missed Kakashi’s eye darting over to him for the first time since he’d come downstairs, and the ensuing flicker of uneasiness that appeared on his face.

“Hmm. I have an errand to run, I’ll see you later.” Kakashi waved cheerily before disappearing in a burst of shunshin smoke.

“Wha-” Madara started forward, but the man was gone in an instant

Mito startled as well, pushing off the wall she was leaning on. 

Hashirama simply stared wide-eyed at the space the man had been. 

“What the fuck!” The Uchiha hissed, any feelings of a softer nature quickly became buried under roiling anger, ‘What is wrong with him! We decided to stick together!” 

“I’m sure Kakashi will be fine,” Hashirama tried to soothe his anger, “He knows we’re going to the library, why don’t we just head there.”

“It’s not fine .” He snarled, smoke rising from his clenched hands, “He can’t just-“

Mito stepped forward into his eye line, eyes narrowed in annoyance, “There’s no use in getting worked up about it now Uchiha, you can yell at him all you want when he gets back, in fact, I’ll join you. He’s being an idiot, but what’s new.”

“You hardly know him!” Madara spat, fed up with people treating him like some volatile child.

Mito raised an auburn brow, “And you do?”

The coals of his anger flared before sputtering out. The Uzumaki wasn’t wrong, much to his chagrin. He had no more right than the others to be angry at Kakashi.

(Though he thought the man might trust Madara enough to tell him where he was going.)

Allowing himself to be ushered out of the inn with some token grumbles, Madara stomped after the Senju brothers and Mito out into the darkened streets. The capital wasn’t silent at night; various night-time workers and capital dwellers were still strewn through the streets, but it was a lot quieter than earlier. With cool air hanging heavy in the streets Madara could see the hot puffs of his breath fog up the air as they hurried through the paths and alleyways. 

The whole point of staying in the same inn was so they could come up with a plan to search in a way that wouldn't get any of them caught and keep everyone safe. Madara was pissed that Kakashi had decided just to dip whenever he felt like it. 

It was annoying. 

It felt like he took one step closer to understanding him and then immediately fell down a whole flight of stairs backwards.

Tobirama seemed to know where he was going at least, and they were soon standing in front of the imposing white stone building that was the Grand Library. 

He crossed his arms and cocked a brow, “That’s it? I expected pillars of gold for something called the grand library. ” 

Tobirama rolled his eyes, “It’s a library Uchiha, it’s for scholars, not royalty.” 

Madara gave a disgruntled grunt, “Well it is attached to the palace, isn’t it?” 

Hashirama bit his lip and stared up at the building, “This is the public half of the library I believe, the other half is sealed in the inner city.”

“And we’ll start here,” Tobirama nodded, glancing back with a slight frown, “Hopefully we won’t need to enter the inner city.

Madara started up the stairs with a huff, walking briskly towards the single guard standing at the wide double doors that served as the entrance to the building, “Oi, we need to get into the library.” 

The guard startled from their sleepy half slumped over positioning, “A visitor! Sorry, can I see your library card please?”

Ah. Madara didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Hashirama swooped in with a charming smile and open expression, “I’m so sorry, we’re new to town and haven't had time to pick one up yet, do you think we could come in just this once?

“You can’t come in without a library card.” The guard yawned as if they’d explained this quite a few times before.

Madara narrowed his eyes on their helmet, “Ok, where can we get the one then?”

They pointed down the street, “You can fill out a form for an application for a library card at the Registry two blocks over.” 

“We can’t apply for a library card at the library ?” Madara grits out, thoroughly fed up with this already.

“Come on Uchiha,” Tobirama grabbed his arm and tugged him harshly away from the guard, “We have paperwork to do. 

Madara really didn’t like the electric gleam that was shining in the Senju’s eyes at the notion of paperwork. Where did he get off on that?

“Why can’t we just sneak in?” He grumbled to himself, resigned to the fact that he was letting far too many people tug him around lately. 

Tobirama rolled his eyes, “We need access to the public registry, one of the few things this place does right is that it records the movements of its troops. It’s more out of vanity than actual sense, but they’re vain enough to think no enemy can make it inside the walls of the great library that they’re just there for viewing.” 

Madara nodded slowly, “So if we can see where the troops that went to the village came back to, we can track Izuna?”

Mito made a noise of agreement, “Kakashi said his ninken can help us once we narrow down the area a bit, but the whole capital is a bit too wide of an area with too many scents apparently.” 

Madara begrudgingly admitted that this plan had a grain of sense, “But I don’t know why that idiot felt the need to go off on his own.” 

Mito looked at him sharply, “Are you concerned Uchiha?” 

He pursed his mouth, “To be frank, yes-” he ignored the widening of the Uzumaki’s eyes “-we really need to stick together. And that faux-Uchiha freak was after Kakashi in particular, so the fact that he just disappeared without telling anyone is a bit worrying!” 

His voice increased a bit in volume until Mito, Tobirama, and Hashirama were all staring at him with a bit of bewilderment.

“A-are you OK Madara?” Hashirama asked gently, big brown eyes staring at him from under his cloak. 

Ah. Perhaps he was letting his emotions get the better of him.

He let out a harsh huff of air, “For fucks sake I’m fine I just would rather us all stick together, as I’ve stated previously.” 

Madara didn’t want to think about what would happen if anything else broke in his already increasingly fragile world.

Thankfully, before the trio could reply to him, they arrived at the building the guard had directed them to. Unlike the Library, this building was a bit more run down, with brown wooden siding and a crooked sign above the door stating ‘Bureau of Library Registration’.

They all stood looking at the sign for a moment, before Mito cleared her throat, “So who wants to go in?” 

Not a moment had passed before Tobirama stepped forward, the scary glint back in his eye, “I’ll go. They will give me the registration form.”

Striding into the building with his cloak fluttering around him Madara wondered if Tobirama was the god of paperwork that Hikaku sometimes prayed to in exasperation when he thought Madara couldn't hear him.

Hashirama chuckled, “I’m sure my brother will sort it, there's very little Tobi won’t do to complete the correct paperwork.”

Madara grimaced, violently reminded of the albino’s methods of getting paperwork done in the time they had been in the village. 

Mito hummed in consideration, “Shall we wait in the ramen shop over there? Get something to eat?”

Hashirama’s stomach rumbled audibly, causing the man to grin sheepishly, “That may be best, it has been a while.”

Madara begrudgingly agreed, knowing there wasn’t really much they could do until Tobirama was done or until Kakashi found his way back to them anyway.

The shop was quiet and quaint, the few other customers looked half asleep in their soup as the light from the oil lamps overhead cast the shop in almost sickly yellow light. Madara glared into his ramen bowl sulkily, ignoring Mito and Hashirama’s attempts to include him in their benign conversation. He did not want to talk about flower arranging, and certainly not with these two. 

Instead, he found his thoughts straying to Kakashi. Wondering what on earth he was thinking just leaving like that. He knew he was lingering on something that couldn’t be addressed until he talked with him, but that couldn’t stop him from wanting to punch the man anyways. He stabbed at his noodles petulantly, swirling his chopsticks in the soup.

“Hmm, what fun things are you guys doing here?” 

Madara tried to keep himself from jumping in surprise, only succeeding in dropping his chopsticks and knocking his chair to the side with a loud screech against the stone floor instead.

“Kakashi!” Hashirama greeted through a mouthful of noodles, “We were wondering where you went off to.” 

The silver-haired nuisance had appeared directly behind Madara, which the Uchiha was beginning to suspect was on purpose, and was accompanied by the smallest of the dogs that he had summoned in the cave.

Madara craned his neck backwards to glare at him, an unfortunately not very intimidating attempt from his seated position, “Where the fuck did you go Hatake?” 

Kakashi simply shrugged and turned his cheerily closed eyes towards Madara, “Ah you know, around.” 

The Uchiha scowled, eyes narrowing dangerously. 

The dog sitting on Kakashi’s shoulder turned his squished little face towards the Uchiha, “I apologise on behalf of the pup, I thought he had informed you that we snuck into the palace.” 

Hashirama choked on a bit of egg, “I’m sorry, what?”

Mito was staring at the two of them with a calculating glint in her violet eyes, “You snuck into the palace?” 

Kakashi nodded cheerily, “Well it’s not quite as dramatic as Pakkun described it, I really just walked in the visitor entrance and broke into the dungeons.” 

Madara blinked in disbelief, “What the fuck Hatake.” 

The dog, Pakkun, he remembered, nodded in an all too human manner, “Yes, that was about my reaction too, Uchiha. But nothing went wrong, the dungeons were practically empty actually.” 

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head in choreographed sheepishness, “Well at least we know Izuna isn’t there!”

Madara reclaimed his chopsticks and stabbed the egg floating in his ramen with a tad too much force, sending a bit of soup splashing out of the bowl, “I’m so glad you’ve established that for us.” 

Hashirama laughed nervously, “I think what Madara is trying to say is that we’re grateful that you’re actively searching but maybe it would be best if you kept us apprised of your plans?” 

Kakashi pulled up a chair beside Madara, slumping into it with a slouch, “Of course, I just thought this operation would be best accomplished on my own.” 

Madara ignored him, even as the masked shinobi turned his head towards Madara in search of a reaction. He wasn’t going to give him one. 

He had been worried dammit, and this asshole thought it was no big deal?

Mito frowned, unaware of Madara’s rising rage, “You said the dungeons were empty?” 

Kakashi nodded, cheerfully tapping a finger on the table, “Completely, not even guards. It was like the palace had been deserted.”

Hashirama got the overly serious look on his face again that wasn’t seeming so out of place anymore, “Then the guards have a new base of operation. Somewhere unexpected.”

Kakashi hummed an agreement, reaching over with chopsticks of his own to spear one of the green bits floating in Madara’s soup and lifted his mask to chew on it quicker than the eye could follow.

Madara snapped the chopstick he was holding in his hand, a snarl playing on his lips, “Then we’ll find it.”

Kakashi snagged another bite of ramen as Madara felt his anger reach a boiling point.

He stood suddenly, sending his chair screeching back and startling Hashirama and Mito, “Come on Hatake, I need to talk with you.” 

Kakashi blinked at him, gray eye calm and cool, “Now? I’m quite hungry.” 

“Yes now.” He hissed, grabbing the man by his upper arm and dragging him outside the shop and around the corner into an alleyway.

“Not that I’m complaining about being in a dark alleyway with you Madara-chan, but I would prefer a bit of warning before you have your way with me.” Kakashi drawled in a bored tone, leaning back against the wall nonchalantly.

Madara didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, instead jamming a finger into the man’s chest harshly, “Look, “I get this is a difficult situation, and I get you’re used to doing things on your own, but you can’t just disappear!”

Kakashi leaned down, eyelid fluttering teasingly, paying no heed to the Uchiha’s finger “Madara-chan, it almost seems like you were worried about me.” 

“So what if I was?” He said, eyes steadfastly focused on the silver-haired nin’s face.

Kakashi blinked, the humorous glint in his eye going flat, “Madara, I don’t think now is the right time for this.” 

“So I should apologise for caring what happened to you?” He growled, eyes narrowed to slits that sparked with chakra, “Did I not just say that you’re one of the last people I have right now that I can trust? It’s hard to justify that statement when you just run off .” 

Kakashi was looking anywhere but Madara, hands twitching at his sides uncomfortably. 

Madara exhaled angrily, “Whatever Hatake, all I wanted to say is that if you wanted to break into the castle, you didn’t have to do it alone.” 

He turned to go back towards the restaurant, heart beating a riot in his chest, a mixture of hurt, anger, and other turbulent emotions swirling inside of him. 

“Madara,” Kakashi called after him, “I’m not… good at this.”

Madara turned around, studying the darkened figure in the alleyway behind him. The confident shinobi he was used to was hunched down slightly; eye pointedly fixed at the ground.

The Uchiha waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, he sighed, forcing out a few short stilted sentences, “Yeah, me neither. Sorry for yelling. Izuna says I express concern through violence. I’m working on it.” 

Kakashi glanced up, eye a little less cool than it had been, “I’m not used to people being concerned for me.”

Madara pursed his lips, “Well get used to it idiot, especially with Hashirama, once that fool gets attached, he latches on like a limpet.”

The silver-haired nin laughed lowly, “He does seem a bit overly concerned with Mito’s favourite flower already, doesn’t he?”

Madara snorted, “You should have heard them earlier, going on about which flowers meant ‘best greetings’ and ‘I hate you’ at the same time. Stupid flowers.”

They walked back to the restaurant, and If Madara noticed Kakashi brush the back of his hand against Madara’s a little more than was necessary, he didn’t say anything. 

He figured that was as close to an apology as he was going to get.

Notes:

Poor madara doesn't understand Kakashi, but he's starting to get there!! Also don't you love bureaucracy? most people don't but Tobirama sure does.

I feel like Kakashi woke up, realised that Madara was a real person again and panicked at the notion of emotion, as he tends to do, and instead of dealing with them in a reasonable healthy way (him? never) he ran from them, quite literally in this case.
_______
Mito: hehe beetles
Tobi: no
Mito: pls?
Tobi: no, give them to Kakashi
Mito: HEHE
(mito is a secret prank queen don't @ me)

Madara: yeah you're not so bad
Kakashi: I'm sorry what, sorry what, what, sorry what
Madara: I said you're not so-
Kakashi: *disappears from this plane of existence*
Madara: -bad. aw dammit.

Hashirama:
Mito:
Hashirama: ya like jazz*?
*flowers

Chapter 20: In which Kakashi does not respect the rules of the library

Notes:

so my consistent uploads lasted for a total of two weeks ;-;
in my defense it was finals season, and now thats over!

enjoy :)))

CW// bit of blood

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It wasn’t like he meant to sneak into the capital. 

Really. He swears. 

It was more of a ‘this is an acceptable outlet for energy’ than any actual plan. And most importantly, it was away from Madara.   

Unfortunately, the moment he left the founder, he found himself wishing he stayed. Something about that new softness that Madara had in his eyes whenever he looked at Kakashi tugged on something deep inside of him that ached with a vengeance. 

It hurt; it was painful to see that look directed at him. That look was supposed to be reserved for people that were good. People like Naruto, Gai, and Rin. 

Not him. 

Never him. 

But Madara kept looking at him anyway. Saying things like he liked his hair, and that he was worried about him. 

Kakashi didn’t know what to do with that. 

So, sneaking into the palace was an easy decision. 

And an easy operation as it turned out. The palace dungeons were deserted. Not even a single guard beyond the two at the entrance that Kakashi had slipped past with ease. They weren’t even shinobi.  

It was puzzling. In his time, below the palace was where everything of importance happened related to the daimyo’s army or the shinobi he had under his control. It was where the prisoners were kept, where interrogations happened, and where planning for major operations took place. 

Kakashi had been below the palace quite a few times.

This time, there was barely a single shackle left on the walls. 

The guard had moved somewhere, and Kakashi didn’t know where that was. 

“Oi, stop stealing my ramen!” Madara hissed as Kakashi snagged another bit of bean sprout out of his bowl.

The ramen at this store wasn’t as good as what he was used to in Konoha, but it wasn’t bad at all. And the few bites he managed to steal from Madara were immensely satisfying. 

It was particularly amusing how the Uchiha kept trying to figure out how he was eating through his mask. Which he wasn’t, but the advanced henge he’d developed for this purpose made messing with people so fun.

“Who says it’s me stealing your ramen.” He grinned at the scowl on Madara’s face.

“I can see your chopsticks idiot.” 

He blinked down at the chopsticks in faux-shock “Ah, so I am stealing it, thanks Madara-chan! You know sometimes these hands have minds of their own. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on them in the future.” 

Madara narrowed his eyes in annoyance, “You’re an ass.” 

Kakashi set down the chopsticks and beamed at the man over steepled fingers, “Have I ever denied it?” 

The Uchiha’s scowl twitched up briefly into an expression that could almost be called fondness, “I suppose you haven’t.”  

Kakashi floundered briefly at Madara’s easy acquiescence, he wasn’t quite sure what to do when the banter slipped. He had tried to say... something (he refused to call it an apology; he had nothing to apologise for) in the alley that had dispelled the Uchiha’s anger, but it had left something else in its wake. The almost vicious concern from earlier had been replaced with something delicate, an understanding the Kakashi wasn’t sure he knew anything about or how to handle. 

It appeared that Madara cared about him.

It was terrifying. 

Mito, who had been watching their exchange with puzzled amusement, motioned to her own bowl of soup, “You know you can order your own if you want.” 

“Ah it’s ok,” He waved away the Uzumaki’s offer, “I’m not that hungry anyways.” 

The small smile on Madara's face slipped, “What the hell Hatake! If you’re not hungry, then keep your hands off my fucking noodles!”

Kakashi batted his lashes across the table, “Ah but Madara-chan, what if I really like your noodles?”

Hashirama coughed suddenly to hide his reddening face, “Maybe we should order another round for everyone? That way there’ll be some left for my brother when he gets back?” 

Madara pointedly swirled the last bit of noodles around his chopsticks and popped them in his mouth, chewing loudly, “Nope, we don’t need any more he’s not that hungry anyways. ” 

Mito pulled a disgusted grimace, “You should really close your mouth when you chew, who raised you, an animal?” 

Kakashi watched as the last of the good humour fled Madara’s face in an instant, quickly cutting in with a distraction, “Actually I think if we don’t leave soon, the owner may lock us in here; we may have overstayed our welcome.” 

He wasn't exaggerating, the owner stood at the counter watching the last table left in the restaurant with impatient eyes, unfolding and refolding a washcloth with sharp precise movements.

Hashirama scraped the bottom of his bowl one last time and stood with a quick stretch, “Alright then, let’s go wait by the registry. It’s been a while, I’m sure Tobi’s almost done.” 

Madara stood with a grumble, eyes still flinty from the mention of his father. 

Kakashi didn’t actually know much about the Uchiha’s family, besides what the man had told him himself. That sort of history wasn’t really covered in depth at the academy, traitors to Konoha were carefully etched out of the ledger. 

Huh. 

Now that he thought about it, that wasn’t really the best practice, was it?

Well, dubious truth-telling in Konoha aside, Kakashi knew next to nothing about the Uchiha clan pre-Konoha. But given the era and what Madara had told him about his siblings, he could assume describing Uchiha Tajima as an animal wasn’t actually that far from the truth.

Though Madara probably didn’t enjoy hearing it. 

Kakashi stood and followed the others out of the small restaurant, waving the owner a cheery goodbye to where they were already moving towards the table with a determined glint in their eyes.

The streets of the capital were a lot quieter now, even those leaving after a long day's work having made it home. Kakashi kicked the dirt slightly as they loitered outside the registration office, a lone candle in the window signifying they were in fact, still open.

Mito blinked sleepily, “Maybe I should have taken advantage of the extra sleep rather than going shopping.” 

Hashirama shuffled his feet, “Well I’m very grateful you did go shopping Mito-hime,, we wouldn't have had such good disguises otherwise.” 

She smiled slightly, an oddly soft look for the fierce Uzumaki, “I’m glad someone appreciates my efforts.” 

Kakashi sniffed, “It’s not my fault the beetles escaped.”

She quirked a brow at him incredulously, “I’m still not over that you know. Are you aware of how hard it was to source those in the market? I had to go into the animal section. It smelled. ” 

Madara huffed loudly, “Oh no , what a tragedy.” 

Hashirama snorted, muffling it quickly at the glare the Uzumaki princess quickly sent his way.

As Mito opened her mouth to respond, the doors of the office slammed open. 

“For fucks sake! Just leave! Take the fucking card and leave!” An angry shout echoed out of the doors, a tinge of desperation in the unfamiliar voice.

Senju Tobirama strolled down the stairs, a hard-edged smile showing sharp white teeth pasted on his face that only widened further when he saw them waiting, “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“Good news I take it?” Hashirama asked lightly, glancing behind his brother as a hassled-looking employee in the uniform of a government employee snuffed out the candle in the window with one last glare in the direction of the white-haired Senju.

Tobirama smiled like a shark, “The best. All-hour access to the imperial library on the condition that I never come back to the registration office again.” 

Hashirama laughed loudly, slapping his brother on the back heartily, “That’s what I love to hear!” 

Kakashi marvelled at the fact that Tobirama was obnoxious enough to wait out even the well-known tenacious bureaucracy of the capital. He had his fair share of experience with the endless forms that it usually entailed, though when he came here for ANBU purposes, he never went through the proper channels anyways. That or Tenzou took care of it for him. 

Ah he missed his kouhai. 

“Back to the library then?” He proposed, head turning to glance up the road in the direction of the library.

Madara shot him a look, “What do you mean back to the library, you haven't been yet, too busy gallivanting off to the palace.” 

Kakashi beamed at him, eye crinkling shut, “And what a wonderful place it is, I’ve always wanted to see the palace you know, wonderful gardens I'm told.”

Ignoring Madara’s mutters that sounded vaguely like threats of bodily harm, he wondered if he shouldn't have dismissed Pakkun; his summon would have stuck up for him. 

The library really was a grand building, grander now than it was in Kakashi’s time. The white stone wasn’t stained with soot and the original double doors hadn’t been burned down yet. 

Not that he knew anything about how that happened. 

Certainly not. 

Hatake Kakashi would never defile such an important building to the daimyo. 

ANBU Hound might have though. 

Following Tobirama up the stairs, the Kakashi observed the guard take them in with surprise, wide eyes darting to the little blue card that the younger Senju held loftily in the air.

“Ah, you actually came back!” 

The Senju sneered, “Of course, but may I point out that your bureaucracy is inefficient and pointlessly-”

“What my brother means,” Hashirama cut in hastily, “is that we have a library card now so please let us in?”

The guard glanced over them all, lingering for a moment on Kakashi, “That one wasn’t here earlier.”

Tobirama stepped in front of the guard's gaze, “Doesn't matter, he’s on the card, see? Tenju Sobirama plus four guests.” 

The guard sighed, “Whatever, just go in, and keep quiet, there’s scholars working there all hours of the day and night on important business for the court.”

Kakashi tugged his hood further up over his head as he followed the others into the library. 

Tenju Sobirama ? Really?” Mito questioned, brow raised incredulously. 

Tobirama shrugged, “It really is an inefficient system, it’s not like anyone will ever see our registration.”

The Imperial Library was just as grand on the inside as the outside, with aisles and aisles of mahogany wooden shelves with thousands of bound tomes and scrolls stacked to the very top. The aisles lined the sides of the library, leaving a broad area up the middle that stretched all the way to the back. Tables were scattered up the middle, with various robed and cloaked figures hunched over maps and scrolls, some muttering together in low discussions while others simply read in the relative silence of the library. Above the shelves and tables rose vaulted ceilings, with skylights letting streams of moonlight that puddled on the floor of the entrance almost like water. Though the cool moonlight was nothing compared to the vast oil chandeliers that lined the ceiling, they burned almost as bright as electricity Kakashi mused, throwing all corners of the room in flickering yellow hues.

Hashirama inhaled deeply, “I love the smell of paper.” 

Madara raised a brow, “Really? I would think you wouldn't like the smell of dead trees.” 

Hashirama gave an easy smile, “Not at all, but paper isn’t just dead trees , it's a repurposing. A transformation of wood into something new and usable, not unlike how I transform vegetation after all.” 

Tobirama clapped his hands together, the sound echoing a little too loudly in the cold silence of the library, “So, we should split up to cover more ground. I want to inspect the public registry in the basement, as we discussed earlier.” 

Hashirama nodded, “Yeah that’s probably a good idea, Mito-hime do you want to go see what we can learn from the scholars?” 

Mito raised a brow, “They probably won’t like us interrupting their studies.” 

“Well maybe we can just look over their shoulders,” The Senju amended with an easy grin, “The court respects scholars, some of them might know some interesting information if we can convince them to tell us.” 

Kakashi hummed, he knew from personal experience that the scholars could be rather loose-lipped when plied with alcohol and honeyed words, though somehow he suspected that was not how the Senju would go about it.

Tobirama glanced over the shelves in front of them, “Uchiha, you and Hatake can work on the maps of the capital, perhaps there is somewhere obvious that we missed.” 

Madara’s lips thinned, “Sending us off to go look at dusty old maps huh? Think I can’t help with anything useful?” 

The pale Senju glanced back at him balefully, “ No. I think you and your rather unique way of processing visual information might be able to pick up on details that we would miss.” 

“Oh.” Madara blinked, looking slightly taken aback. 

Kakashi picked at the bandages covering Obito’s eye, he didn’t know if it was such a good idea to be flaunting the sharingan, but if it helped find Izuna, he would do what he had to. He would fix the mess he’d made. 

Hashirama gave another nod, before glancing at Mito and offering her an arm hopefully, “Shall we?” 

The Uzumaki placed her hand delicately in the crook of the Senju’s arm and nodded primly, somehow looking ever the proper clan heiress despite being in a dubiously stained cloak, “Of course. We’ll reconvene at dawn?” 

Tobirama nodded, a grim set to his mouth, “Somehow I don’t think we’ll find anything until then anyways, but if any of you do you know where I’ll be.” 

Kakashi hummed an acknowledgement, turning his eye to Madara, who was watching Hashirama with a slight squint. He followed the Uchiha’s gaze to where Mito’s hand lay daintily against Hashirama’s bicep as they strolled towards the lamp-lit tables.

“Madara?” He questioned, taking a step to stand in front of the still Uchiha. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Madara blinked, flicking eyes away from the disappearing pair with a hint of something in his eyes that Kakashi couldn't quite identify, “Where are the maps anyways?” 

Kakashi gestured vaguely to the left-hand side of the building, he had some hazy recollection of seeing a map over there before, but to be fair, he was stabbing someone atop of it so it really could have been anywhere in the library.

They made their way over through the towering shelves until they arrived at a section marked ‘Atlases and History of the Great Capital’. It wasn’t a large section, two whole bookcases and an end table holding a tall case of scrolls. 

Madara sighed, “All right, better get searching. I don’t want to be here too long.” 

Kakashi stepped forward to trace his fingers over the spines of the books, looking for one that would be useful, “Don’t like libraries?” 

“Don’t really like to read,” Madara corrects, a small grimace twisting his face, “Well, I used to.” 

“What changed?” He asked lightly, pulling out a tome entitled A Brief History of the Walls of the Capital. 

The Uchiha frowned slightly deeper, heading to the scroll case to pull them out by the handful, “Makes my head hurt, eye strain.” 

Kakashi opened the thick leather-bound book, plopping down onto the floor for more comfortable reading, “Deterioration?” 

Madara shot him a suspicious glance over the silver-bound scroll he had opened, “Yeah, should I even ask why you’re aware of that?”

The jounin shrugged, turning a page to reveal a rather intricate map of the southern fortification, “I wouldn't.”

The Uchiha gave a long sigh, sitting on the other side of the aisle opposite Kakashi so that their legs knocked together slightly, “You really shouldn't know these things, I’m going to figure you out eventually.”

Kakashi jolted slightly at the casual contact, eye flickering up to meet Madara’s jet-black eyes, “Of course you will Madara-chan.”

Madara tossed the silver bound scroll to the side carelessly, taking another one from the pile he had pulled from the case, this one lined with bright green thread, “Don’t mock me Hatake, I’m very used to getting what I want after all, I am the leader of the Uchiha clan.” 

He snorted, “My apologies, Uchiha-sama, I would never dream of disrespecting such a glorious leader.” 

Madara glared at him and kicked the inside of his ankle, “Shut up and read your book.” 

The time passed quickly, or slowly, Kakashi couldn't quite tell. Time stopped being measured in minutes or hours and instead was measured in pages, in chapters, and in books. So many books. After five he gave up on trying to read them normally and peeled off the bandage wrapped over the sharingan and began to scan through the volumes quickly. Madara too had activated his and was studying the maps and diagrams of various parts of the capital with spinning tomoe that flickered over the parchment with frightening speed. The stack of already read material grew beside them in the aisle until it was almost completely blocked. Kakashi pitied whatever poor library assistant would be left with their mess. 

He finally spotted a lead when he made his way through three-fourths of the first shelf. It was a thin blue volume called A Complete Guide to the Catacombs of the Capital, 1 st edition. In his time, the catacombs were something of a tourist attraction, with clearly sectioned-off areas available for the public's perusal. No one was buried there any more of course; they were a throwback to the times when the capital was expanding so rapidly that it was practically built on top of itself, and plague was rife in the newly built slums. Even in this time, the catacombs were a relic, something only documented as evidence of past brutality and to emphasize how developed and modern the capital, and more importantly, the daimyo, was now. 

As the guide detailed the rich history of the city's underground burial area, Kakashi narrowed his eyes in thought, what better place to hide than an underground labyrinth that was off limits to everyone except the government and most of which was still unmapped. He flipped through the guide a bit slower than usual, pausing on any pages with maps and diagrams; there were starling few for a book calling itself a Complete Guide.  

“Madara,” He started slowly, the pieces of the puzzle pulling themselves together, “I might have something.” 

The Uchiha glanced up from the blue and silver scroll he was studying, eyes still red with the sharingan cutting a startling figure, “You do?” 

The jounin nodded, passing the small blue book across to Madara, “The catacombs.” 

Madara’s brow furrowed, “The catacombs?” 

Kakashi waited for a few seconds to let Madara flick through the book, “It makes sense, it’s hidden, there are connections to most of the city, and no one has any real interest in it. It’s the perfect place for a hidden army.” 

“Or a prison,” Madara replied darkly, lips twitching downwards as he paused on a careful drawing of a wall made of bones and skulls detailed in the book's opening chapter.

He hesitated before nodding, “It’s what I would do if the positions were reversed.” 

Madara chewed on his bottom lip thoughtlessly as his eyes traced over the limited history of the catacombs, “And you think Obito would do the same?”

Kakashi fought the impulse to tug Madara’s lip out from between his teeth with his thumb, blinking away the thought at the mention of Obito, “I... I don’t know. The Obito I knew wouldn't have done any of this to begin with. But this one might.” 

He was willing to bet that this version of Obito was more similar to him than he would like to admit. 

Madara sighed deeply, “Ok then, it’s more of a lead than I’ve found all night, we should go find the others, and we can go check it out.” 

Kakashi stood with a nod, stretching out the muscles that had gone slightly tight from sitting on the floor all night. 

It wasn’t hard to find Tobirama, the Senju was exactly where he said he would be, holed up in the basement poring over an immense book that had row after row of tiny text detailing the main movements of the army the daimyo commanded. 

“Oi, Senju,'' Madara greeted, eyes flickering over to the particularly stern-looking librarian who was watching Tobirama flip the massive pages of the register like a hawk, “We found something.” 

The albino glanced over at their entrance, the somewhat dimmer lighting of the basement flickering over the red marks on his face in a way that made them almost appear to be moving. He acknowledged them with a tired grunt, eyes trained on the blue book that Madara held tightly in his hands.

“The catacombs.” Kakashi added, standing by the stairs in careful placement so that if the librarian tried anything he could stop them, “We think they moved to the catacombs.” 

Tobirama tilted his head, contemplating, “The catacombs are mostly unexplored right? It's easy to hide things in places that people don’t know exist.” 

Madara tossed the book to the Senju carelessly, prompting an outraged squawk from the librarian that was growing more tense with every word that was spoken, “Take a look.” 

Kakashi watched the librarian carefully, as the hawklike glint in their eyes turned into something a bit more suspicious, “Now now, you wouldn’t tell anyone what we’re discussing would you?” 

At his honeyed question, the librarian stiffened, took a step back against the wall and shook their head rapidly. Kakashi liked to think it was his intimidating presence that did the trick, but it was likely the blade that Madara had carefully exposed under his cloak that really did it.

Tobirama flipped through the book, pausing on a page with a map of the marked entrances to the catacombs, Kakashi knew that the marked entrances were but a fraction of the true number of entrances to the ancient tunnels.

“All right.” The Senju said after a minute or two, eyes still glued to the pages, “This adds up with what I’ve found. There was a recorded move in premises about two months ago, to an undisclosed location in the city, but recorded in the notes was the request for more construction workers with a specialisation in working underground.”  

Madara tapped a finger on his arm impatiently, “Then what are we waiting for? Let's find Hashirama and the princess and get a move on!” 

As it turns out, they didn’t need to find Hashirama, as the Senju quickly found them the moment they emerged from the stairwell leading to the basement.

“Go!” 

Hashirama’s voice was actually what found them first, echoing around the corner followed by the pounding of feet on the stone slaps that made up the floor of the library, this was quickly followed by the man himself barrelling around a few stacks of books into the main centre aisle with wide eyes. 

Kakashi tilted his head, this couldn’t be good. 

Mito was next around the corner, the corner of her cloak slightly singed, “Gotta move folks, the guards are right behind us.” 

“Fuck,” Madara cursed under his breath, hand quickly flying to the blade at his waist. 

Kakashi had known this would happen sooner or later, at least it happened after they had a lead

He slid a kunai into the palm of his hand as they took off through the library, snatching the small blue book from Tobirama and tucking it into a pocket close to his skin.

“What the hell Hashirama!” Madara hissed to his friend, cloak fluttering around him as he sprinted after the Senju up the centre area of the library.

Hashirama’s eyes darted behind them as the shouts of guards started to become audible from the back of the building, “I may have alerted the guards to our identity. Completely unintentionally.” 

Mito shot the Senju an annoyed glare, “You couldn't just leave the plant there?” 

The brunette pouted, “It was going to die if I didn’t do something!” 

Tobirama blinked in shock for a moment before anger quickly stole over his expression, “you’re telling me you used your mokuton in front of the guards? The very same guards on high alert for shinobi of our descriptions?” 

Madara was seething, “You and your fucking plants!” 

Kakashi would have chimed in with a suitably clever quip but instead was forced to leap high into the air as a spear came hurtling towards him. He turned the momentum into a flip and landed lightly on the balls of his feet on top of a bookshelf to the side of the main aisle, looking across the rows of shelves at what was unfolding before him.

Fuck. Not great. 

The guards that had seen Hashirama had obviously raised the alarm, and there were a few soldiers of them towards the exit as well as up the centre after them. The library was certainly not quiet anymore, with shouts ringing out all around the building and the slap of shoes on stone ringing under the high ceilings.

So much for their low profile.

He sighed, took a deep breath, and quickly flew through a series of seals before opening his mouth and blowing out harshly. He dug in his heels as the wind jutsu blew directly into a bookshelf across the centre area, easily knocking it over and into the next one, which fell itself and started a domino chain of bookshelves that had the guards rushing for the exit shouting in alarm. Above him the gas lamp chandeliers flickered violently, casting shuddering light and shadows across the library. The studious scholars finally abandoned their tables, running haphazardly for the exit amidst the chaos of falling shelves.

It was glorious. 

“Come on!” Hashirama yelled from where he had continued to run up the middle of the library, “Get outside!” 

“Halt!”  

Shouts mixed with the crashing of shelves and the groaning of broken wood into a cacophony of noise that made Kakashi bare sharp teeth into a grin more akin to a snarl. He needed this. 

Too much on his mind with no outlet was a bad combination, and these poor guards would bear the results of that.

He sprang back towards the rear of the library over the destruction he had wrought, hoping to draw the attention of the guards away from Hashirama and the others so they could leave. He would catch up with them after dealing with this... small problem. 

Using chakra to power his steps he leaped high into the air as the guards that had been pursuing them up the centre grew near. A wave of kunai whistled through the air, spreading out in a fan from Kakashi’s outstretched fingers, only one finding its target in the soft flesh of a throat while the others sailed past to clatter against the floor. 

It was alright though, he only meant them as a distraction. 

He followed his weapons forward, landing lightly in front of one of their pursuers. Quickly twisting into a high kick, he struck quickly, sending the guard flying backwards to crash into the bookshelf behind them. Dust flew into the air at the impact, and the three or so remaining guards skidded to a halt to face him with tight grips on swords and spears. 

He twirled a kunai around a finger, making sure the sharp metal caught the still dancing light of the gas lamps, “I’ll say this once, turn back now, and you can live.” 

“S-stop right there!” One brave soldier warbled through a warning, eyes wide and panicked.

Kakashi tossed another kunai into the air, catching it by the blade with ease, “Well don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

The guard gulped audibly. 

Kakashi sighed, readying to fling the other kunai into another soft target, it really was too easy, they weren’t even charging him.

“Go.” Madara’s voice rang from behind him, hand coming to catch his elbow before he could throw. 

The guards shakily turned and scurried back down the aisle, likely to inform their superiors exactly where they were. 

Kakashi pouted, looking over his shoulder at the scowling Uchiha, “Madara-chan, you know leaving witnesses alive is bad practice.”

Madara shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t like killing civilians, it feels... wrong.” 

“Ah morals, what a wonderful thing that must be to have.” 

“Shut up.” 

Kakashi grinned sharply behind his mask, the adrenaline of what was almost a fight still thrumming in his veins, “I thought you left, didn’t want to miss out on the action?” 

The Uchiha pursed his lips, “We just talked about doing things on your own, I’m not going to just leave you here. Plus, Tobirama was adamant to keep you from burning the place down.” 

“Been there done that,” He walked across the aisle to pluck the kunai he had thrown out of the guard’s throat, opting to ignore the first part of Madara’s sentence.

The clan leader scoffed lightly, “I’m sure you have, and though I’m quite curious about that I’m more curious about how you can use so many elemental jutsu, that’s four elements now, all that’s missing is water.” 

Kakashi hummed, a thrill trickling down his spine, “You’ve been watching me Madara-chan.”

“It’s not like you didn’t know that already,” Madara flicked a lock of thick dark hair over his shoulder, eyes dark and steady, “You haven’t been the most forthcoming about your abilities.”

The jounin let his eyes drift halfway shut, battle adrenaline shifting into something a bit more electric, something that reminded him of the moment in the hotel earlier when Madara said he liked his hair. Such an innocuous comment had somehow still turned the air heavy with what was left unspoken, pooling in the air into something viscous that Kakashi wanted to drag his finger through.

“We should spar again,” Normally careful words discarded in the face of the warmth coursing through his veins, “last time wasn’t exactly a fair fight if I remember correctly.”

Madara scowled, “I won fair and square, and I hadn’t slept in days when you tried to sneak out of the compound.” 

“Ah, but here's the thing,” Kakashi purred, taking a few quick steps back towards Madara to lean closer than was strictly necessary, “I wasn’t trying to fight you, I was trying to get away from you.” 

The Uchiha scoffed, face slowly turning a slight pink, “Fat lot of good that did.” 

Kakashi smirked, leaning closer still until his masked nose almost brushed the Uchiha’s ear, “Well I’m certainly not trying to get away from you now.” 

Madara turned a deeper red that Kakashi itched to trace with his finger, maybe even his tongue. 

“I’m not sparring with you here; they’ll be more guards on their way any moment now.” 

Kakashi pouted, “Promise we’ll have a fair fight once this is all over?” 

Madara considered him for a moment, eyes dark and slightly hooded, “Yeah, all right, we can spar once we get home. I expect a challenge.” 

A slight jolt went through Kakashi’s body at the sound of Madara referring to home, and that he meant Konoha. He wondered for a moment if perhaps this could still work. That if this all did work out, he could see a whole Konoha again, perhaps even more whole than the original Konoha of this time. 

One with Madara still in it.

A different type of jolt followed right after that one, one that almost already ached with the promise of a spar against Madara. While a few months ago this would have brought a bit of fear now it was just painful anticipation mixed with the promise of something a bit more dangerous, and perhaps a little fun. 

He wanted to punch the living daylights out of the Uchiha for making him feel this way, he wanted to pin him to the dusty ground of the training grounds and see him yield, he wanted to bite that pale neck and leave a mark for others to see, he wanted many things.

But he also wanted to skin anyone alive that put a bruise on him that wasn’t caused by himself, he wanted to hear that worry in his voice again, see dark eyes trace his form with that look that wasn’t meant to be directed at him.

Most of all he really really wanted to kiss him. He wondered if it would be gentle, hungry or harsh. If Madara would let him pull his hair. If he would let him trace the scars of his body until Kakashi knew them all by touch.

Kakashi wanted with a depth that he’d never felt before and that was terrifying.

He made a small noise in the back of his throat, realising he was practically pressed against the Uchiha at this point, the few centimetres still between them charged with something staticky and warm. Madara startled slightly at the sound, jumping back as if shocked by the electricity hovering in the air. His eyes were blown wide, and his hands twitched helplessly at his sides. 

“L-lets get going before they come back, the others couldn't have gone far.” The Uchiha was refusing to look at him, flush still evident on the arches of his high cheekbones. Kakashi thought it was a good look on him. 

“Did you take care of the guards at the door?” He prompted, clearing his throat when it came out a bit huskier than he wanted at the moment.

Madara nodded, stepping over the felled body of the guard and starting towards the exit.

Kakashi followed him without another word, leaving his tumultuous feelings with the chaos of the library behind him and stepping out into the first rays of dawn. The smoke in the air from home hearths scattered the sunlight over the city, painting the clouds in wide swaths of red and pink. 

No birds chirped in the capital and what a beautiful morning it was to break into the lost catacombs of the Land of Fire.

Notes:

Feelings tm are happening, and bad things tm are also happening
and holy shit i'm excited about next chapter, like Big Things happen and i'm excited to show you guys.
Also here's a quick snippet of an exchange i wanted to include but just couldn't make fit, i just thought time travel gramatical confusion would be funny ok!?
______
Kakashi beamed at him, “I’ve always wanted to see the palace, you know, kind of a bucket list item!”
Hashirama furrowed his brow, “What’s a bucket list?”
The jounin blinked, this may have been a mistake, “It's a list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket.”
“Why would you kick a bucket?” Tobirama chimed in, eyes narrowed as if deep in though on the reasons one would have to kick a bucket.
“Does the bucket have a piece of paper in it?” Mito asked, tilting her head in confusion.

also i blame a certain comment strand for inspiring this (you know who you are you monsters) but i have photoshopped a monstonsity and I must have you see it as well. my photoshop skills are mediocre at best and this took me way too long ;-;
BEHOLD CYNDARA

CYNDARA

Chapter 21: In which Madara decides he doesn’t like bones

Notes:

This is a long'un isn't it.

CW// some blood and violence

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The capital seemed a bit more alive in the early dawn than it had when he had been on the streets last, with bleary-eyed workers chugging down hot drinks in stands lining the streets and the smell of baking bread permeating through the cool morning dew that hung in the air. 

Though, how much bread the bakeries had this lovely morning was the least of Madara’s concerns.

He was buzzing, adrenaline jumping in his veins and keeping him hyper-focused on the fact that he was very close to seeing his brother again. With any luck this lead was the real deal, and his baby brother was waiting for him in some cold underground tunnel surrounded by the bones of people long dead.

Madara just hoped Izuna’s bones wouldn't count among them when he found him.

Tobirama had been quick to lead away from their rather dramatic exit from the library, darting through alleyways, across a few brides, and even through a bakery that hadn’t opened yet. The baker had not been pleased when Hashirama snagged a few rolls on their way through. They also had to catch Mito and Hashirama up on what they had found, with Mito oddly excited at the concept of an ancient grave.

(“Think about the history , the seals they must have used to help build this in a swamp !”)

Madara on the other hand wasn’t as excited to be traipsing into unknown darkness where thousands of dead lay buried. He wasn’t a superstitious man by any means, but something about walls of bones made him wonder if the ghost stories the old ladies in the clan used to tell had any truth in them. He shuddered at the thought of rows and rows of skulls, watching his little brother slowly rot, alone and seemingly forgotten by everyone.

Gods he needed to find Izuna now .

They were taking a long winding path through the city to throw off any potential trails, and Madara wasn’t happy about it. He knew why it was necessary; they couldn't afford to be found now, not when they were so close, but he still didn’t like it. 

He knew where his brother was likely to be; all he wanted was to tear through anything and anyone standing in his way. He would raze this city to the ground before he let Izuna be taken from him when he was almost in his grasp again. The Uchiha could feel sparks aching to escape from his throat, and he swallowed them, the burn in his throat a precursor to the roaring flames he would unleash on those who had stolen his family and his home from him. 

He felt his hands shaking with the sheer anger coursing through him. Or was that nerves? He couldn’t quite tell.

“So where are we heading Tobi?” Hashirama asked, eyes trained on the roofs of neighbouring buildings, watching carefully for any potential followers.

The younger Senju glanced sharply at his brother, “I thought you knew where we were going.” 

The brunette blinked, “Tobi, we’ve been following you this whole time.” 

The albino crossed his arms defensively and turned around to face the group, “ I was just getting us away from the library, Hashirama, I’ve been following you for the last 10 minutes!” 

Hashirama threw his arms in the air, “Why would I know where we were going, Madara and Kakashi were the ones that found the book with the map!”

Mito sighed, rubbing her brow with calloused fingertips, “Sometimes I wonder how you all are the most feared shinobi in the Land of Fire.”

Madara grunted in agreement, kicking at the dirt slightly. He was too wired to deal with the Senju infighting. He just wanted to beat the shit out of someone. Preferably one of the daimyo’s soldiers.

Or Kakashi.

“We should get to the catacombs before they figure out we know about them, the librarian we intimidated isn’t likely to stay silent for long,” Kakashi added, cutting into the budding argument between the two Senju.

Madara tapped a finger on his thigh, hands itching for something to do, “The book we found marks a few known entrances, we should just pick one.” 

Tobirama turned from glaring at his brother to his new target, “Yes but those entrances are also the ones known by the daimyo and his guard, now that they know we’re here, don’t you think they’ll reinforce the guard on those entrances?” 

Kakashi nodded, “Exactly, that’s why we need to find a different way in. We sneak inside and hit them hard and fast from within, take advantage of what remains of the element of surprise.” 

Madara rolled his eyes, “And I suppose you have some sort of secret entrance that no one else knows about?” 

Kakashi beamed at him, eyes crinkling shut, “Wow you really are starting to know me well aren’t you Madara-chan!” 

He glowered at the silver-haired shinobi’s sunny expression, “Asshole.” 

Kakashi opted to ignore him and instead pulled out the blue guidebook on the catacombs, opening it up to a map of the capital, “The guide marks three main known entrances, one by the palace, one by the market, and one by the old hospital.” 

Mito studied the map with cool violet eyes, “Those areas are very far apart, how large are the catacombs supposed to be anyways?” 

Kakashi tapped a long finger on the spine of the book, looking oddly accustomed to holding a book open with one hand, “No one knows for sure; they haven't explored all of it, or most of it even. It’s a bit of a mystery.” 

Mito chewed the side of her cheek, “Why would they publish a guidebook then if they don’t have all the information?” 

Hashirama’s mouth pulled into a line, “Propaganda. The daimyo likes power, and controlling what the people know controls their impression of his government and the world.” 

Tobirama looked calculating for a moment, eyes narrowed in a way that made the red lines on his face look sharper, “Knowledge itself is power.” 

“Indeed,” Kakashi said coolly after a moment, before pointing to a small plaza on the map quite a way from where they were currently, “There’s an entrance here, but I’m not sure if it’ll be accessible.” 

Tobirama frowned, “What do you mean?” 

The silver-haired nin grimaced, “Well it was accessible last time I was here, but it might have been closed now”

“How specific,” Madara scoffed.

“It’s at least worth a check,” admitted Hashirama, “Better than storming the main entrance at least.”

Kakashi took the lead from the two Senju and led them through the streets as the sun slowly came up. The early morning fog thickened as the morning progressed, it was almost soup-like as it mixed with the lingering smoke from hearths to stick and burn at Madara’s throat with every inhale.

Another thing to dislike about this wretched place.

They moved in the shadows as best they could, staying at the edges of the street away from the hustle and bustle of the middle. Madara glanced around as the buildings grew nicer and nicer the further into the city they went. Buildings that had been rough-hewed stone and thatch were now multiple stories tall, built of neat stone blocks and dashes of colourful roofing. The streets were neatly paved with cobblestone rather than beaten-down dirt, and they were wide enough to let multiple wagons roll down the middle with room to spare. Ladies in fancy robes and respectable civilian merchants traipsed from shop to shop, and everything was sparklingly clean without any sign of those who kept things that way. 

Madara felt distinctly out of place in his ratty cloak, and he pulled the hood up even further to try and hide his face. This was a nice part of town; there were more guards here than anywhere else he’d seen. Guards there specifically to make sure there weren’t too many people here wearing clothes like his own. Taking a few steps forward to walk even with Kakashi, he reached over to pull the hood forward for the other shinobi as well.

Kakashi jerked away briefly before he registered the hands tugging at his hood were Madara’s and instead just fixed him with a teasing grey eye, “What did we say about touching Madara-chan, all you have to do is ask.” 

He scowled, “Don’t get it twisted moron, you have some of the most recognisable features in the group, and I don’t want to get spotted.” 

Kakashi swayed a bit closer as they walked, “Mm if you say so.” 

The Uchiha ignored the flush that came to his cheeks as Kakashi’s arm brushed his own, it had made itself much too at home in Kakashi’s presence lately, and he wasn’t a fan. 

Well, he wasn’t not a fan. He just- he didn’t know- he wasn’t sure what to do about it dammit. 

He never knew where he stood with the mysterious shinobi and he hated that he still wanted him so badly despite that. 

It wasn’t long until they came to the small plaza Kakashi had identified on the map. It was only a few blocks from the palace and more than a few guards mingled in the morning crowd that populated the square. Fashionable cafes lined the edges, and a large fountain sprang from the middle of the cobbled square. Gauzy curtains of thick fog were draped over the tops of the buildings and the sun was just a white silhouette through them.

Kakashi paused in front of the fountain, looked down at the paving stones, and then back up at the fountain, “Well. It should be right here.” 

Tobirama raised a brow, “Do you expect us to squeeze through the tiny drain in the middle of the fountain?” 

The silver-haired nin glanced around the square, “There should be a pond here, not a fountain.” 

Madara crossed his arms, “Even if there was a pond here you expected us to just jump into the pond in front of all these guards?” 

A grey eye blinked at him innocently, “Yes?” 

Mito groaned loudly, “I think this is a little less than the ‘accessible’ you described, Kakashi.” 

“I mean it technically could be.” 

“That’s a fountain, Hatake, we can’t walk into a fountain .” Madara seethed.

The masked shinobi rubbed the back of his neck, “Would you believe me if I said when I was here last that the fountain was actually a lovely pond with a lovely bridge with a lovely framed entrance into the catacombs?”

Mito coughed, “This lovely fountain has been here since the 5th daimyo.” 

Kakashi’s eye widened slightly before crinkling into a smile, “They must have done some renovations since I was last here!” 

Madara narrowed his eyes, “So you’re actually 500 years old then? The current Daimyo is the 15th you know.” 

Kakashi raised the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically, “Oh no! You’ve found out my secret Madara-chan! I’m actually an old man who found out how to prolong his life!” 

Tobirama snorted, “Well that explains the grey hair.” 

“Says the man with white hair of his own,” Hashirama added with a small snort. 

“My hair is from a born condition, Hashirama!” The albino sneered, “Not that you would know what that’s like, Father probably sprouted you from like the ground like the plants you love so much.”

Tired of the pointless arguing and annoyed about the wasted time, Madara turned away with a 

huff, stalking back towards the edge of the plaza. This wasn’t helping anyone, and his brother was still decidedly not found. 

(Possibly dead and he wasn’t thinking about that. He would know if Izuna died, he would know .) 

“Where are you going?” Mito called after him over the bickering of the two Senju. 

“To find my brother!” He grits out, “This was a waste of time, I’m going to one of the marked entrances. If there’s any soldiers there, I’ll rip them apart.” 

“Ah, Madara!” Hashirama squawked, turning away from his brother to chase after him, “What happened to the plan? The element of surprise!” 

Madara fixed his old friend with a tired glare, “I just want my brother back Hashirama, every moment we spend on a hunt for a secret entrance that may not even exist my brother could be dying. What would you do in my position?” 

Hashirama blinked solemnly at him for a moment, “I would do everything in my power to get him back.” 

Madara nodded, “Exactly, so let’s-” 

“But I would also not throw away the plan that has the best chance of succeeding in the face of frustration and anger.” 

Madara could feel his hands trembling slightly; he knew his friend was right, but it wasn’t fair . Why was it him? Why was is it his family that this happened to? The last of his family.

Hashirama sighed, putting a calloused hand on his shoulder, “Madara, I know you miss your brother, and I’m sure he misses you. But I don’t think he would want you to throw yourself into a haphazard plan that could get you hurt or captured as well.”

Madara scoffed, “As if these pathetic guards could hurt me.” 

“But Obito could,” Hashirama’s eyes were dark and serious, “We have to think this through Madara, getting your brother back is also going to help us retake Konoha.” 

Madara blinked at him incredulously for a moment, “You don’t really care about Izuna do you? All you care about is yourself and your dreams!” 

Hashirama’s eyes widened, “Madara no that’s not-” 

“No, don't Madara me!” He hissed, throwing off the Senju’s warm hand, “You just want to use my brother to fight for you!” 

The others had followed them, and at Madara’s outburst Tobirama stepped forward to his brother's side, “We shouldn't do this here, too many eyes.” 

Madara looked between the two of them incredulously, eyes flitting to Mito’s calm face and Kakashi’s unreadable one. The sparks were back with a vengeance, and he almost felt like he had indigestion with how much his throat burned. He wanted to spit fire and snort smoke and light this entire city on fire. 

How dare Hashirama pretend to care about his family when all the Senju clan had ever done was take from it. How dare this place keep his brother from him. 

“Madara,” Kakashi said evenly, “There’s one other place nearby that we can check, could we just look there? If we don’t find anything, I’ll tear apart the guards at one of the marked entrances for you myself.” 

Madara knew he probably looked a mess; his hair was wild under the hood and his eyes were probably just the wrong side of sane, but Kakashi was looking at him with complete seriousness. His exposed eye was calm, level in a way it only was when the shinobi had one of his rare serious moments. The grey was less the dark storm it had been in the library and more of the river stones that he used to throw into the Naka. There was something comforting there that echoed in the man’s voice as well. A certainty that he would stand beside Madara should he take the more difficult path. 

It was a sort of unconditional support only Izuna had shown him before. 

Something in Madara’s chest ached, and he took a deep breath, slowing how rapid his breathing had become in his anger and fear, “Fine. One more place.” 

Kakashi nodded and pointed to a side street off the plaza, “This way.” 

The street led to a small aqueduct set into the ground, an arched bridge continuing the street to the other side.  Kakashi motioned for them to wait and jumped down into the water with a small splash, the shallow stream only coming up to his ankles. He took a moment to examine the side of the aqueduct under the bridge before poking his head out again to summon them over.

“Did you find something?” Mito asked, glancing around to make sure no guards were watching before hopping down to join Kakashi in the water.

The silver-haired nin hummed a confirmation, pointing at something beneath the bridge Madara couldn't see. The Uchiha jumped down to join them, a seed of hope growing in his chest.

The entrance the silver-haired shinobi had found was not exactly what Madara had expected. It was less of an entrance or a door and more of a bolted-shut drainage grate set into the wall. Above it, carved into the stonework of the underside of the bridge was a small skull symbol, small notches in the top of the skull made it look almost like a gear. 

The sign of the catacombs.

Hashirama gave a small laugh, eyes flickering to Madara with every other word, “You actually found an entrance!” 

Kakashi shook his head dramatically, “Your lack of faith wounds me Hashirama! When have I given you cause to doubt me?” 

Tobirama simply scoffed, walked around the two shinobi, and started examining the bars, “They shouldn't be hard to break, there’s a bolt here and if we can break that the whole thing should come open.” 

Madara looked up at the streets to see a few passers-by staring at them curiously, “We should get a move on before any of our new guard friends see us.” 

The shinobi made quick work of the bolt, and soon they had managed to dip through the grate and into the catacombs.

Beyond the narrow entryway, the tunnel quickly opened up into something a lot bigger than Madara had imagined based on the description in the guidebook. The ceiling loomed high above his head and his steps echoed in the vast darkness of the space, water dripped from cracks in the ceiling to form large puddles along the edges of the corridor.

Thanks to the sharingan he could see perfectly fine, so he led them through the tunnel, with Kakashi bringing up the rear, sharingan shining bright in the pitch black of the underground. The tunnel wound in a pattern that Madara couldn't quite decipher, and he quickly lost track of which direction they were facing. The damp chill down here was much more pervasive down here than in the city above and Madara shivered as a drop of water fell directly onto his neck. It was eerie down here, dark and silent except for the sharp plops of water on stone and the light shuffle of their shoes. He felt on edge, ready for a fight or to run very far away from here. 

He wasn’t sure which yet.

He was just glad he hadn’t seen any bones so far. 

That was another curious thing. For all that the catacombs were supposed to be an ossuary; the tunnel they were stalking down was just made of rock and dirt, with no skulls or femurs to be seen. 

Madara wasn’t sure if he was grateful he didn’t have to be surrounded by death, or worried that they might be in the wrong place. 

“Hold up,” Tobirama’s whisper felt loud in the hush of the underground.

Madara stopped and twisted his head to look back questioningly at the Senju before remembering only he and Kakashi could see in this pitch black, “What?” 

“There’s chakra signatures up ahead.” 

Madara tensed, hand tracing the handle of his tanto, “How far?” 

Tobirama had his eyes closed and his head cocked slightly, “Not far, I think there’s a branch in the tunnels though or some sort of cavern, there’s a few different signatures in different directions that I can sense.” 

Hashirama took a deep breath, “Ok, this is it then. We should find Izuna and get out as quickly as possible; don’t give them time to react.” 

Mito hummed an agreement, “We can’t afford a blow-out fight here.”

Madara tilted his neck until it cracked, “Fine. Hit ‘em fast and get out, I get it.” 

They all readied their weapons and made their way forward once again, a new tension hanging in the air in anticipation of a battle.

The tunnel let out into a large cavern that Madara finally felt lived up to the reputation of the catacombs. There were bones everywhere. 

The walls were made of bones, arm and leg bones stacked to the ceiling and skulls arranged in rings and patterns up and down the walls. There were even torches slotting into empty eye sockets, casting a sinister flicker across the high arched ceilings where even more skulls stared down at them. 

Mito inhaled harshly while Hashirama’s eyes simply grew wide at the sight before them. Madara’s eyes widened too, though not just at the sight of bones as building materials.

There were a lot of guards in the room, all staring at them,

Shouts rang in the air as there was a mad scramble for weapons as groups of soldiers sitting around boxes of supplies and little tables with cards splayed across them clambered to their feet.

“It’s the Senju brothers!” 

“That Uchiha fire-devil!” 

“Oh, gods!” 

“Where’s the commander!”  

“Someone send for the shinobi!”

“I knew I should have taken the day off!”  

Mito smiled a sharp, dangerous slash of an expression before jumping forward towards the startled soldiers, calling over her shoulder, “Well, what are you waiting for Uchiha? Go find your brother!”  

“He’s through the left hall, there’s a few other chakra signatures that way,” Tobirama stated, flexing his fingers in a quick stretch, “There’s quite a few more on their way here from the right. We’ll distract them while you get Izuna.”  

Kakashi scanned the crowd briefly, “Do you sense Obito?”  

“No. All the chakra I can sense isn’t particularly strong,” The albino frowned, “I thought there would be more shinobi than this.” 

Hashirama caught his elbow as Madara started forward, “Be careful Madara, I didn’t mean to upset you earlier. I just want us all to be home .”

The Uchiha looked back at his friend for a moment, “I know Hashirama.”

His friend smiled shyly at him, “All of us includes Izuna, so go find the ornery bastard.”

Madara returned the small smile and sprung forward into the fray using one particularly broad-shouldered guard as a spring pad to set him soaring up over some of the crowd rushing towards his friends. Landing amidst a cluster of guards he smirked as they rushed towards him, ducking low under one swipe of an axe to quickly swing his leg around in a low circle, sending them crashing down onto the floor. 

He gave a snort of laughter as they scrambled backwards on the ground away from him, they were all so scared of him. Let them be scared, he thought, let them cower in front of him. 

Keeping their lives was more than they deserved for keeping his brother from him.

He easily made his way through the crowd, ducking and weaving through blows and swings that were as slow as a child’s and blasting away anyone around the hall he needed out of the way with yellow tongues of fire that flickered from between his lips. 

When he managed to force his way into the hallway, he turned around to try and block it only to stumble backwards as Kakashi came crashing through the crowd after him, white-blue flickers of lightning wrapped around his fingertips that cast a harsher light on those around him then the orange warmth of the torches. 

He had flecks of blood on his cloak and on his hands and Madara was reminded of how nice the colour looked on him. Especially with the matching crimson of the sharingan shining out from above his mask. The last time he really saw him like this was before Uzushio, in the woods. 

Madara was struck once again by how beautiful his companion was.

“Yo,” Kakashi wiggled his fingers at Madara before turning around to fly through a few hand seals and plant his fingers on the ground, a low rumbling the only warning before a wall of earth rocketed upwards to block the doorway.

 Kakashi stood, wiped his hands on the cloak and crinkled his eyes cheerily at Madara, “So! Onwards?”

“What are you doing?” Madara asked, a hint of bewilderment seeping into his voice.

“Following you,” Kakashi shrugged, “ You were the one who told me not to go do things alone.” 

Madara blinked, “Ah, I did.” 

The silver-haired nin huffed a small breath of laughter, “It’s better to keep the numbers even as well, if there’s trouble on the way out and you get separated from the others.” 

Madara supposed that made sense, though the bit of him that had warmed at the thought of Kakashi possibly being concerned for him as Madara had been for him beat a tattoo against his ribcage.  

He really had to deal with this Kakashi problem.

With the earth wall blocking pursuers, they wound their way deeper into the catacombs, light feet making quick work of the stone hallways and various bone-lined atriums and enclaves. After two such smaller rooms they entered a larger one, with Kakashi pulling him behind one of the pillars that lined the room as soon as they entered.

“There.” Kakashi hissed, warm breath washing skating over the rim of his ear as he leaned in to whisper, “Two guards by the second door. That must be it.” 

Madara gave a sharp nod, “Let’s go.” 

Slinking behind the pillars, Madara pressed his back to one just a few metres from the guard on the left side of the door. He shuddered at the distinct press of eye sockets digging into his shoulder blade.

Madara decided he was not a fan of the catacombs.

He waited until he saw Kakashi in place on the opposite side before springing forward, a burst of chakra propelling his feet with a woosh of air. The guard barely had time for his eyes to widen before Madara’s blade was slashing across the soft skin of his neck, splashing crimson onto the bones lining the door. Kakashi had moved in perfect tandem with him and the other guard’s body slumped onto the floor, neck snapped neatly in an instant by the silver-haired shinobi. 

Kakashi tilted his head at the two still bodies while Madara flicked his blade to get the blood off, “They’re civilians.” 

“Yeah?” Madara made a face, “It’s been mostly civilians since getting to the capital.”

Kakashi narrowed mismatched eyes, red sharingan still glowing slightly in the dim torchlight, “Tobirama said there were chakra signatures this way besides your brothers.” 

Ah. 

Madara’s eyes widened, and he barely had time to spin around to catch the blade that came crashing down on his head, metal ringing loudly in the cavern, “Fuck!” 

“Hah! You clan folk aren’t actually that smart are you!” The blonde kunoichi whose blade Madara had blocked sneered at him, jumping back to land in a low crouch about halfway across the room.

Two more shinobi jumped down from the ceiling by her side, one with a nasty-looking serrated sword and the other with a flail and chain that Madara did not want to feel crunching his bones. 

“I didn’t think you would fall for that,” The one on the left drawled, yellow eyes glinting menacingly in the dim light, “Even my kid would check the ceiling.” 

Madara felt his lip pulling up into a snarl, they were right of course. He had made an elementary mistake in his eagerness to get to his brother. Desperation had made him a poor shinobi.

“Go.” Kakashi said evenly from beside him, posture carefully relaxed and hands shoved into his pockets, “I can handle this, go find Izuna.” 

Madara turned to look at him with a glare, “Don’t be an idiot.” 

“Yeah, don’t be an idiot,” The blonde jeered, “listen to your keeper, dog.” 

Kakashi narrowed his eyes, sharingan spinning faster for a moment, “Ah I wouldn’t worry about my idiocy, these are the ones I would worry about.” 

Madara’s brow furrowed, “Are you sure?” 

Kakashi cocked his head, eyes flickering to Madara’s for a moment, “Don’t go worrying about me again Madara-chan, I’ll be fine.” 

He gave a sharp nod, “Don’t die.” 

Kakashi smiled at him, not one of the ones so blatantly fake with eyes curled all the way shut but one that showed the small smile lines at the corner of his eyes and that added a warmth to the grey and red that shouldn't really be there given the situation, “And have to stop tormenting you? Don’t worry about me.” 

And with that, Madara spun around and dashed for the door, a blast of hot air accompanied by the roar of flames exploding in the room behind him. 

The shouts of the enemy nin and the sharp taunts by Kakashi echoing up the hallway put his mind at ease as he dashed up the narrow hallway. This one was lined with skulls at its base and small patterns of shoulder blades set into the wall of endlessly stacked femurs and arm bones. 

It was both morbidly beautiful and deeply unsettling.

He turned a corner and skidded to a halt at the sight of two guards leaning nonchalantly against a large metal door, it looked much newer than anything else in this ancient ossuary. The guards startled and scrambled for weapons at the sight of the angry Uchiha. 

He smiled widely, knowing with his teeth bared it was probably scarier than if he had just glared, “Do you really want to fight me ?” 

“B-by order of his lordship the most honourable daimyo, I order you to leave at once.” The one on the left stuttered bravely.

Madara’s smile grew sharper, he could taste the sparks again, “My brother is in there, and I’m going to get him out. That can happen with your organs still inside you or out, which do you prefer?” 

The other guard swallowed harshly, throat bobbing, “By order of his lordship the most honourable-” 

The repeated threat cut off into a choked gurgle as Madara’s kunai sank deep into his trachea.

He had no patience for blithering idiots.

The first guard gasped loudly and dropped his spear onto the ground with a loud clatter, “Oh my gods, please-” 

Madara snapped his neck quickly and shoved the body to the side, he had given them both a chance, and they hadn’t taken it. 

With a few quick hand seals, he heated the door handle until it was glowing molten red and smashed it with a powerful chakra-enforced kick to the side. The door slammed inwards and Madara stepped into the room.

It was dark, no torches like there were in the hallway and the floor was dusty. The walls were laced with intricate patterns of finger bones and the ceiling was all kneecaps. 

And there, sitting on the cool stone in the middle of the room, was Izuna. 

“Izuna,” He breathed, afraid his brother would disappear if he said anything louder. 

His brother looked up at him with eyes that widened before softening into relief, “Madara.”

Izuna was dressed in the same dark tunic and pants he usually wore, his mantle wrapped around his shoulders. He looked well, surprisingly, a bit pale, but clean and his hair pulled up into a neat top tail.

Madara choked back a sob of relief and rushed to his brother's side, pulling him into his arms, “Oh gods, Izuna, you’re alive.”

His brother scoffed quietly, clenching tight fists into the fabric of Madara’s cloak, “Of course I am, think I’m a weakling do you?” 

“No! No of course not,” Madara sighed into his brother's hair, closing his eyes tight at the familiar sound of his brother's voice, “I’m just really glad to see you.”

Izuna hummed a response, outwardly calm, but Madara could feel the slight shaking of his hands and knew otherwise. 

“Are you injured? Did they hurt you? Are you hungry? How’s your chakra stores? Have you been sleeping?” The flood of questions poured from his lips involuntarily, he pulled back slightly to run his sharingan over his brother, looking for any signs of harm. 

Izuna gave a small, jagged smile, “No, he didn’t hurt me. Said we both are Uchiha, which makes us family. He didn’t want to hurt family.” 

Madara’s concern quickly flipped to violent anger, the temperature in the room plunging as his killing intent spread like frost across the room, “He is not family Izuna. He took you from me and our home.” 

Izuna looked at him with a sharp smile, “You think I don’t know that? I just let him think that way to get better treatment, he even returned my cloak after a bit.” 

His anger sputtered a bit before blowing out, the chill of his killing intent still lingering in the cold stone lining the room, “Ah, I knew that.” 

Izuna took a slightly ragged breath, “You really aren’t the brightest sometimes are you brother.” 

He scowled and pinched Izuna’s arm hard through his clothes, “Keep talking like that and see if I ever come and rescue you again.” 

Izuna snorted and leaned further into Madara’s arms, “As if you’d ever abandon me.” 

Madara tightened his hands into the fabric of Izuna’s mantle, “Never, I’d never leave you Izuna.” 

His brother took a deep breath that stuttered slightly, “I know. I knew you would come.” 

Madara took one more moment to simply bask in the fact that Izuna was alive and here before pulling away reluctantly, “We have to get out of here pretty quickly, I’m not sure how long the others will be able to stall the guards.” 

Izuna’s eyes darkened, “The others?” 

“The Senju brothers, Uzumaki princess, and Hatake,” Madara elaborated, “They’ve been remarkably helpful.” 

For only a fraction of a second Izuna’s mouth curled into a cruel snarl, some alien rage roaring in his eyes that Madara had never seen there before. He blinked and it was gone, a look of cool detachment in its place. 

He wondered if he was mistaking things in the dim light.

“Of course, it’s always good to have loyal allies.” Izuna stood with a sigh, brushing the dust off his pants and making for the door.

Madara stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and following Izuna out into the hallway, stepping over the still bodies of the guards lying outside the door.

Izuna had a violent glint in his eyes as he took a moment to observe the bodies, “You killed them.” 

Madara cocked his head, “Of course I did, they were trying to keep me from you.” 

Izuna hummed, sharp eyes studying Madara for a moment, “OK. Let's get out of here, there could be more guards on their way.” 

Madara nodded slowly, following his brother through the corridor. 

Something wasn’t quite right with Izuna. 

But it didn’t matter. 

He had his family back, and no one was going to take it from him again.

Notes:

GUESS WHOS BACK BABYYYYYY, Izuna is!!! and he is here and ready to be a perfectly productive member of Konoha society yes he is.

Also bonus points to anyone who can identify where the one first year philosophy class I took made an appearance. Side note, the amount of nationalistic indoctrination and information filtering that went on in Konoha is a little horrifying. Once you get past the whole child soldiers thing there's a whole lot of other messed up crap. And I don't believe for a second the Hokage's were blind to it, I mean just look at ROOT. There's a whole lot of NOPE that happens in a ninja village, may I once again revist #giveshinobitherapy
_____________
Madara: *freaking out about his brother*
The Senju brothers: Ah yes this is the PERFECT time to flex our brotherly dynamic

Kakashi:Hmm Tobirama seems way too invested in this whole knowledge as power thing, but I'm sure he wouldn’t use that when developing the village made of paranoid professional murderers.
Tobirama: Social engineering go brr

Chapter 22: In which self-honesty is a boon

Notes:

Oh dear god it's been a while...

I'll keep it brief cause I'm sure a list of excuses is not what you want to be reading
1. Covid sucks (long covid in particular)
2. Getting research approved takes a lot of time (ethics committees are a pain)
3. Spilled a beer on my laptop (in my defence i was quite drunk at the time)

Ok now that that's done please accept my apologies for disappearing for half a year and lets get on with the story!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Honesty was something Kakashi rarely partook in.

He didn’t like to make a habit of it, it was always more of a nuisance than anything else when it did make an appearance. It was on even rarer occasions that he partook in honesty with himself. He liked this practice even less, as lying to oneself was much easier and let one skip over all the thinking about feelings parts that tended to give him hives. 

However, the one occasion Kakashi was okay with some self-honesty was when it came to his instincts about danger. 

And right now, they were practically screaming at him. 

He didn’t like these catacombs, he didn’t like how few guards there were, and he didn’t like any of this.

Things were going too well, and he didn’t know what he could do about it. 

He didn’t know if there was anything he should do about it. The plan was to extract Izuna and get the hell out of dodge, nothing had happened to change that plan yet. It was all going fine.

The only thing off was that his instincts were itching at the back of his throat. They were like a sneeze threatening to come out but instead of releasing it fizzled out into his blood and shook his ligaments. 

Despite there being no enemies around him, he felt on edge. Like the battle adrenaline wasn’t leaving him even after the danger had passed. 

By the time Madara emerged from the tunnel tailing a rather well-put-together Izuna he was still trying to quiet the fizz in his blood and had resulted to pacing by the doorway. 

His head jerked up at the quiet footsteps, and the bubbles in his blood went flat at the two brothers back and in one piece.

Perhaps he was just overthinking things.

Madara’s eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed, and he hadn’t let his eyes trail off the back of his brother's head even as Kakashi greeted him with a wave.

“Hatake,” Izuna intoned coolly, drawing Kakashi’s gaze away from the elder of the two Uchiha, I suppose I owe you some sort of thanks?”

The jounin tilted his head slightly and studied Izuna, the younger Uchiha had an unreadable expression on his face, a cool facade that Kakashi felt didn't fit with the volatile young man he had met when he had first arrived in the past, “I mean that is what is generally expected in the advent of a favour.” 

Izuna’s lip pulled tightly to the side, “This is no favour, this is an expression of your guilt over our newly shared acquaintance.”

He winced, Izuna wasn’t far off from the truth. The truths he was so used to avoiding were popping up much more frequently than he was used to, and it wasn’t helped that it seemed to be visible to every pair of prying Uchiha eyes.

Izuna pushed the advantage, sneer twisting his face, “I owe you nothing Hatake.” 

Madara’s eyes flicked away from his brother for a moment, meeting Kakashi’s briefly with what looked like confusion in the black depths.

“Well,” Kakashi cleared his throat, hoping to inject some composure into silken tones, “Shall we get out of here then before the reason you owe me nothing returns?”

Madara grunted in agreement, carefully stepping over the bodies littering the floor with a baleful glance towards their killer, “I see you had fun?”

Kakashi shrugged, “One must make do with what entertainment they have left.”

Izuna bent down to palm one of the blades that had fallen to the floor, a short sword with a red-wrapped grip and a small hanging tassel, “This bitch stole my blade.” 

Kakashi watched as Izuna methodically picked through the pockets of the downed combatants, slipping various components into clever pockets. Madara watched on with badly concealed impatience, shifting feet and glances over his shoulder belaying his desire to move on from this place. 

Kakashi echoed Madara’s unease, it wasn’t as if he’d thought this mission would fail necessarily. Just that it would devolve, as most of his missions tended to. Their plan wasn’t exactly meticulously planned, and their enemy had seemed one step ahead of them the whole time Kakashi had been here. It didn’t make sense that they were being allowed to simply waltz out.

(His instincts still barked in the back of his head, loud and braying)

Clearing his throat, he indicated back towards where they’d left the Senju brothers and Mito, “Ready?” 

Izuna stood gracefully, brushing non-existent dust off of his trousers, “Let's find the tree bastard and his vampiric kin shall we?”

Madara winced, “Hashirama isn’t a bastard ‘Zuna, we owe him.”

We owe him nothing,” the younger Uchiha said in a low hiss, face spasming in a wave of intense emotion.

Kakashi blinked, while Izuna hadn’t been exactly the biggest fan of the Senju the last time he’d seen him, he certainly hadn’t looked like he might tear out his own eyes simply to avoid looking at them. 

Something had changed. 

( The voice in his head started howling)

With a few hushed reassurances from Madara, Kakashi led the way back towards the main room, keeping a careful eye on the twitchy Uchiha at his back. He hadn’t exactly had good experiences with volatile Uchiha in the past. 

It didn’t help that Izuna looked eerily like Sasuke either. 

Busting their way through the rocks, he had hastily pulled up in his pursuit of Madara, the sounds of fighting once again spilt into his ears. Mito was fighting back-to-back with Hashirama, a devastating combination of vines with what looked like exploding tags tacked on to their ends whipped through the combatants around them with devastating force. Mito’s laughter was like a bell over the thumps and pained groans. 

Kakashi was once again violently reminded of Kushina. 

Tobirama was on the opposite end of the room, keeping their entryway clear with some bizarre jutsu Kakashi assumed was the Senju’s own creation. Giant tentacles of water and ice reached around the crouched albino, swatting and bludgeoning surrounding soldiers like flies, not letting them get close to the shinobi.

Madara sighed deeply and took a powerful chakra-powered jump into the centre of the room, catching the attention of their allies with all the ease of an experienced clan leader. It really was remarkable, Kakashi thought, how easily Madara commanded the room with such easy power.

It was hard to look away from him.

Even in a ratty old cloak, the Uchiha was magnetic, and Kakashi couldn't keep his eyes off the man’s easy strength and the smooth muscles that bunched as he landed atop the remnants of one of Hashirama’s previous giant vines. 

Or maybe it was just him, Tobirama seemed to have no problem ignoring the Uchiha and continuing his tentacle rampage across the cavern.

Hashirama’s face split into a giant grin, and the man beamed like a loon at the sight of Izuna landing at Madara’s side, calling out a loud greeting. Kakashi followed with a few smaller jumps, taking care to trod harshly on a particularly beefy soldier with a mean-looking club. He caught Mito’s gaze and waved lazily. She waved neatly back at him, the expression on her face something between a gleeful grin and a satisfied smirk.

“Can we leave now?” Tobirama called out, still unbothered with glancing over at the three shinobi that had entered the room.

“Izuna!” Hashirama greeted with his typical enthusiasm, not rebuffed by the Uchiha’s sneer in response, “I’m so glad Madara and Kakashi found you so quickly!” 

Izuna’s face remained frosty, “I’m very fortunate.” 

The Senju gave another sunny smile and flicked his gaze over to Madara briefly before turning his attention towards the exit, “I think our best bet is just leaving the way we entered and making a break for the walls. I’m sure they’ll be sending more soldiers after us any moment.” 

Mito nodded, “They seem to be coming from the opposite end, so unless you know any other ways out Uchiha-” 

“I don’t,” Izuna bit in, lips pulled so tight they whitened slightly, “They kept me in that room the whole time.” 

Madara made a low noise closer to a growl Kakashi had heard his ninken make than any human sound, “They didn’t let him see the sun.

“Let's go see the sun then,” Mito hummed sympathetically, turning to beckon Tobirama from where he was attempting to block the entrance the soldiers had been entering from with a massive block of ice.

It was quick work to block their exit passage behind them with another earth wall, and Kakashi only felt marginally bad about defacing the ancient site. It wasn’t his fault the daimyo had chosen to use it as a base, if anything it was his fault that Kakashi was forced to damage the ossuary at all.

After exiting the dark corridors of the underground Kakashi squinted at the bright sun reflecting through the fog. It was bright without actually shining into his eyes, illuminating the cobblestones in shades of damp greys and tans. The thick fog also concealed the rows of troops surrounding them for a moment longer than normal.

Alerted by a sharp inhale from Mito and a barked warning from Tobirama, more of the daimyo’s soldiers appeared through the fog, advancing quickly with sharp swords and hardened helmets.

“Let’s go!” shouted Hashirama, “Go east to the walls, we need to leave as fast as we can!” 

Kakashi frowned, “We left our stuff back at the hotel-” 

“Leave the stuff, Hatake,” Madara rolled his eyes, “I’m sure all that you want is that stupid vest.” 

Yes actually, Kakashi thought, he would very much like his vest back along with all his handy pockets. 

His hitai-ate was tucked into his pants pocket and other bits and bops along with it, but he wasn’t a fan of leaving the futuristic material here in the capital for some random person to find. 

(He also didn’t like that he was losing his ties to his previous era, one patch and piece of cloth at a time)

Mito broke through his thoughts with a careful hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry Kakashi, but we need to leave now.” 

Her statement was paired with a glance over her shoulder as Tobirama sent the first line of soldiers flying backwards with a hard stomp to the ground paired with a few hand gestures to send the cobblestones rippling outward like a wave.

With a bitter taste in the back of his throat, he gave a short nod.

Madara must have seen something in his expression because as they began their retreat from the alley and towards the walls, the Uchiha nudged him slightly on a particularly large leap between two buildings, “Forget about the ugly vest, you don’t need it.” 

“Ah but Madara-chan, what should I wear now to distract from my achingly beautiful face?”

The Uchiha rolled his eyes, springing off a creaky gutter with a loud rasping groan, “Don’t be ridiculous, your egregious jokes do that already.” 

Kakashi didn’t miss a beat, “You think my face is achingly beautiful then?” 

Madara pursed his lips, “You’re an idiot.” 

Kakashi laughed, a freer sound that he expected escaping his lips, a lilting joy in his chest buoyed the sound up. Despite his words a blush spread across Madara’s cheeks with ease, a suitable distraction for Kakashi’s brain. 

“I know you’re upset about the stupid vest, if it makes you feel better I had to leave mine too” Madara muttered lowly, almost lost in the rush of the air past them as they ran. 

Kakashi blinked, he hadn’t thought about that, all the others had left things at the hotel, too. 

“We can replace them,” Madara continued, looking away from Kakashi for a second to scan behind them, “I can commission another fucking vest alongside my mantle if you’re that desperate for one.” 

“Aw Madara-chan,” Kakashi crooned, “You would sacrifice your fashion standards for me?” 

Madara chuckled, “Well you promised me a spar, didn’t you? I can’t have you at anything but your best, and if a vest helps with that... well then a vest it is.” 

Kakashi looked sharply at the Uchiha, seeing the easy smirk tugging his lips back and a teasing glint in dark eyes, “Fine, I’ll hold you to that.” 

Madara nodded and took an additional jump to run closer to where his brother was exchanging sharp words with Tobirama that Kakashi couldn't quite hear over the wind.

He knew that the materials of this time wouldn't be able to replicate the kevlar that made his vest so important, but the thought of weaselling a gift out of Madara was an offer too good to pass up. 

Maybe he could even get the Uchiha to help him put it on.

Maybe he could even get the Uchiha to help him take it off.

He groaned to himself; these were not the type of thoughts he should be having in the middle of an extraction. Forcing himself to refocus on the task at hand and not the dark swish of hair just ahead of him it wasn’t long until they were bounding up and over the golden walls of the capital and back into the dampness of the swamp. Kakashi moved in an easy rhythm through the trees, following the Senju brothers' lead south through the swamp. Rhythmic movements slowly growing jerkier as the bone-deep fatigue that had been plaguing him for days slowly seeped its way back into his muscles.

It was with this heaviness in his limbs and in his brain that he was relieved when Hashirama finally deemed it safe to stop after a good few hours of crashing through treetops and undergrowth.

The clearing he’d picked was nothing special, the only boon was the sound of trickling water filtering through the other sounds of the swamp that promised fresh running water. Kakashi would much prefer a hot bath or even a cold shower in the ANBU barracks, but he would make do with a swampy stream if it meant getting some of the grime off of his skin and hair. He could feel it sitting in a filmy layer that itched his scalp and stiffened his underlayers. 

He realised with much dismay that he couldn't remember the last time he’d washed.

The Senju had built a small fire and were arguing quietly over what they could scrounge up for dinner, Mito sprawled next to them on the soft moss of the tree roots. 

“I still don’t know why you can’t just grow us some vegetables with your plant magic, Senju,” She teased, drawing a sheepish look from the brunet.

“It doesn't work like that, unfortunately; I can only manipulate pants that exist already. I can’t create new life, only direct it from somewhere else,” He explained, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, “Certainly it helps with farming, but those farms have to exist before I can do anything to encourage them to grow.” 

Tobirama rolled his eyes, the face of someone who has heard this particular explanation too many times, “If you want to be of help princess, perhaps some help with dinner?”

Mito raised a crimson brow, “Do I look like someone who does a lot of cooking?” 

Madara snorted from his position across the fire, leaned against his brother's side with all the grace of a tired sloth, “I think your answer lies in your form of address Senju, princesses don’t cook, and here I thought you were supposed to be the smart brother.” 

Tobirama’s scowl deepened. 

Kakashi recalled an old wives tale about how if you stick with one expression for too long it’ll stick like that. Thinking back to the expression on the Nidaime’s carving on the Hokage monument he wondered if it was more than a tale. 

He stood with a stretch, “I’m going to the stream, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll come too, I think there’s blood in my socks,” Madara stood with a small frown, the expression wrinkling his nose in a way Kakashi thought was much too cute for a shinobi of the Uchiha’s reputation. 

Kakashi shrugged and made his way out of the clearing and towards the sound of water filtering through the trees, taking a moment to snag Mito’s discarded cloak to wash as well. He had wanted to bathe a little bit, but he certainly wasn’t opposed to Madara’s presence.

He was slightly opposed to Izuna rising and following them with a disdainful sniff. However, given the younger Uchiha’s interactions with the Senju so far, he supposed this might be safer than leaving him alone with Tobirama.

The walk was short and quiet, and soon, they were greeted with a small stream, more of a creek really, with a soft mossy bank that sloped down to the water's edge. Kakashi crouched at the edge of the small stream and doused the blood-spattered cloak in the cool water, shrugging out of his own to dredge it through the stream as well.

Beside him Madara did the same, Izuna hovering over them like some sort of judgmental bird. 

Kakashi paused, glancing up at the uncomfortable closeness of the younger Uchiha, “Did you want to wash anything?” 

Izuna ignored him, instead choosing to cross his arms and steel himself for a moment before abruptly cutting into the silence by the creek, “Madara, would you have done the same thing if the Senju had been the ones to take me?” 

Madara’s hands jerked where they were scrubbing the fabric in the water, splashing a few cold drops across Kakashi, “What are you talking about Izuna? Hashirama healed you when you got injured. Why in the world would the Senju take you? How is this pertinent?” 

“Injured by one of their own Madara!” Izuna hissed, eyes suddenly glinting with wild barely constrained rage, “You ever think that was intentional? Hurt me to heal me and gain your trust?” 

Madara's lips grow into a stern line, “Don’t be ridiculous Izuna, the Senju have risked their lives to help rescue you!” 

Izuna scoffed, sinking into a crouch to glare into the back of Madara’s head, “To help rescue their precious village you mean.” 

Kakashi paused in his movements, the younger Uchiha had a point, one that Madara himself had brought up yesterday. He knew Hashirama cared about Madara and genuinely wanted to help him, but did he care about Madara more than the village?

Likely not. 

Senju Hashirama was a terrifyingly effective leader, and in Kakashi’s experience that didn’t usually go hand in hand with selflessness.

The Senju brothers had risked their lives to help rescue Izuna, they would want something in return for that. 

“No,” Madara spat out, cutting the silence that had broken out between the two brothers, “Hashirama wouldn’t stoop to that kind of manipulation, at most they will just expect your continued loyalty to the village.” 

“You’re smarter than this Madara,” Izuna glared, eyes darting over to Kakashi, “Even your little tag-along over there knows it.” 

Kakashi winced as Madara turned his attention over to him, “I mean I wouldn’t go as far as calling it manipulation-” 

Madara cut him off with a poisonous glare, “Hashirama is my friend, we both want the village to succeed, he doesn't need to manipulate me into helping, he knows that.” 

Izuna let out a short burst of bitter laughter, “Madara, the beauty of good manipulation is that they’ll trick you into coming to the conclusion yourself.” 

Madara’s eyes darted, narrow and almost pained, in between his brother and where Kakashi had awkwardly paused in rinsing the last of the copper out of his cloak, “Hashirama isn’t manipulating me, why are you even bringing this up Izuna? It’s one of our deranged relatives that did all this.” 

Kakashi grimaced beneath his mask, Madara wasn’t exactly wrong in calling Obito deranged in his current state, but to hear it said out loud made it seem a bit too real. That his teammate really was someone back from the grave and out to destroy everything Kakashi cared about.

What a world he’d found himself in.

Izuna sneered, “He certainly was deranged all right, kept saying all sorts of things about the Uchiha and the Senju, things that couldn’t have been true.” 

Kakashi looked at Izuna with a narrowed eye, that couldn't be good, “He talked to you?” 

Izuna let out a humourless chuckle, “Pretty much all he did was talk, Hatake, I don’t know how on earth you put up with him.” 

A small icy ball grew in his chest; it felt something akin to guilt and loss, and it hurt .

He felt his shoulders hunch down and he grew still, “He told you about me?”

Izuna shrugged lazily, meeting Kakashi’s gaze for the first time since they’d been by the creek, “Just a little, nothing of note really, just stories of how you trained together.” 

Kakashi wondered which stories Obito told. Were they the ones where Kakashi beat him into the ground in taijutsu? Or the ones where Kakashi used his teammate’s distraction with Rin to trap him in a genjutsu? Or maybe even the ones of their missions in the war, when they were first learning how to work as a team and ended up coming home with more bruises than clear skin.

The icy ball felt like it had grown spikes, it dug into the sides of his chest cavity and leaked into his lungs. When he exhaled, it tasted like dirt and death and blood. 

What the cave had tasted like. 

He took another breath, willing it to come out steadily as he felt Izuna’s eyes trace fissures in his back. This time, it tasted more like stone and ozone. 

He hummed, glancing up again to fix Izuna with his most uninterested stare, “Is that so?” 

Izuna nodded, tilting his head so a silky lock of black hair fell smoothly down across his shoulder, “He said you were a prodigy, the strongest shinobi of your generation.”

“Mah, I don’t know if I’d say that.” He shrugged, “I just had the unfortunate circumstances of being born into a war. You should know from experience that pushes you to be better.” 

Izuna’s face was blank and still, eyes still bold with a spark of raw fury, “If war were all it took to be better then there would be many more Uchiha still alive.” 

Madara glanced between the two with concern, “Hatake is a prodigy, so what? So are you Izuna?” 

Izuna’s smile was a crooked thing, not quite the natural smirk Kakashi remembered, “All I’m saying is that if Hatake is the strongest shinobi of his generation what does that make Tobi? You both come from the same village, yes?” 

Kakashi set Mito’s cloak to the side, using his own damp cloak to wipe some of the grime from the exposed bits of his face and hair, “Did he say why he went by that name?” 

Izuna’s eyes flashed with genuine confusion, head tilting to the left slightly like a cat, “What name? Tobi? That’s all he introduced himself as, does he have another?” 

“Obito,” Kakashi drawled, “His name is Obito, and when I knew him, he was the weakest shinobi I knew. He was dead last in every test, fight, or competition.” 

Izuna’s jaw flexed, “Well he certainly isn’t now.” 

“No,” Kakashi's exposed eye fell to the side, where Mito’s ratty cloak lay damp and sad on the mossy bank, “I suppose he isn’t.” 

Madara wrung the last of the water out of his cloak and rose to his feet, “Come on, I’m not gonna talk about this anymore tonight. I’m tired and hungry, and I’m sure you are too ‘Zuna, you’ve been through a lot. Hashirama will do something horrible to dinner if we don’t get back soon. One time, he managed to convince me that beetles were an acceptable source of protein.” 

Kakashi suppressed a shudder and rose to follow, Naruto had been under a similar impression once, much to Sakura’s horror and disgust. He thinks Sasuke might have encouraged it oddly enough.

Izuna remained crouched by the bank for a moment longer, dark eyes trying to stare a hole in the mossy soil, his mouth twisted into something almost painful. 

Somehow, Kakashi didn’t think it had anything to do with Hashirama’s dubious choice of ingredients.

Thankfully, beetles weren’t on the menu, and once they wound their way along the bank up to the camp, they were greeted by the welcome sight of a basic stew simmering atop the fire in a crudely fashioned stone pot. He assumed some of Tobirama’s clever jutsu work was involved.

Mito hadn’t moved from her moss and root throne and greeted Kakashi with an easy smile as they reappeared through the darkness of the trees, “Just in time for food.” 

Kakashi tossed the Uzumaki her cloak, chuckling slightly at the disgruntled twist of her face when the cloak landed in her arms with a wet plop, “You’re welcome.” 

She picked up the cloak between a finger and thumb and delicately set it to the side, “It smells like swamp .” 

Kakashi shook his head with a chuckle and settled back down by the fire in a loose sprawl against a short squat tree, draping his own cloak on a low branch behind him. He wasn’t sure it would dry in the humid conditions but at least it wouldn't stink of copper anymore, no more than his things usually did at least.

“We’re going to need more people to take back our home,” Hashirama stated after a moment of silence, poking the fire with a long stick, “We are powerful, but even we cannot take on an army all on our own.” 

Tobirama glanced at his brother over the dancing flames, “Then we regroup with our clans, we go to the Nara.” 

Madara’s lips thinned, taking his place across the clearing with Izuna settling at his side in a neat seiza, “If the Nara even let them stay there to begin with.” 

“Shikara is a friend, she wouldn't turn our clan members away in a time of need,” Hashirama dismissed, sending a burst of sparks into the air as he dislodged a log. 

Izuna watched carefully, tapping a pale finger on his knee, “She wouldn't turn away Senju you mean.” 

“No,” Hashirama corrected, “I mean both of our clan members. Our clans are joined now, in a way closer than just allies, meaning our allies are yours as well.” 

Izuna merely hummed, fingers drumming a bit faster. 

Tobirama sighed, “Whatever you want to consider our clans, little Uchiha, that’s where we have to go to gather our forces.” 

Madara drew a deep breath, “Perhaps after this, we can finally be done fighting for our right to peace.” 

Kakashi leaned back against his tree, letting his head loll to the side to look at Madara, “That’s almost poetic of you Madara-chan, who knew you had such hidden depths?” 

The Uchiha scowled at him, “Shut up Hatake.” 

He sighed dramatically, “Perhaps by exploring your hidden literary talents you’ll finally learn another response to me than that.” 

Madara’s scowl slipped slightly, brow raising a hair, “Perhaps I’d respond to you differently if you didn’t prod me so.” 

Kakashi smirked beneath his mask, blinking coyly over at the bushy-haired man, “I don’t know Madara, if I didn’t know better, I would say you liked to be prodded.” 

Izuna looked properly perturbed by now, eyeing Kakashi and Madara like they were something rotten he’d found at the back of the cupboard. Mito simply sighed and leaned over to pat the younger Uchiha on the back, “You get used to it.” 

Kakashi and Madara both blinked out of the small staring contest they had found themselves in and looked to the Uzumaki in confusion. 

Tobirama simply sniffed in distaste and gave the stew a brisk stir, “If you’re quite done now, can we discuss the biggest issue we face?”

Hashirama sighed deeply, the dwindling light cast long shadows across his face, making him look older and more tired than Kakashi had ever seen the future Shodaime, “Obito, or Tobi, whichever you want to call him, is an issue.” 

Izuna’s lips twisted, coal black eyes darting towards Kakashi and then back to the Senju, “We don’t know if he’ll come after us again.” 

“Really?” Tobirama drawled, pale brow raised almost to his hairline, “Why wouldn't he come after us? What possible deterrent would he have? We are weaker than before, we have no base, and none of us have rested properly in days. He was able to take us all on at our strongest and still walked away with no injuries and an Uchiha prisoner to show for it.”

Madara rubbed a hand distractedly through his hair, drawing Kakashi’s eyes with it, “There’s still the question of what the hell he wants. There has to be more to it than just the daimyo said so.”

“What did he talk to you about?” Mito asked with a small inquisitive head tilt, violet eyes carefully fixed on Izuna. 

The younger Uchiha’s eyes flickered about the whole clearing before focusing on the Uzumaki, “Nothing important.” 

Tobirama’s frown deepened, “ Anything he said is important, we know next to nothing about him or his motives.” 

Izuna’s eyes flicked to Kakashi this time, so quickly it must have been involuntary, before focusing down into the dirt, “He wants to disrupt the formation of the village, and the daimyo does too, so they’ve been working together. I know he has his own agenda, but I’m not sure what it is.” 

Kakashi frowned, the instincts he’d been suppressing all day once again howling in alarm. 

Izuna was lying.

And he had been for a while now.

Perhaps his policy on self-honesty was one he should revisit.

Notes:

We're back folks!!! And were not disappearing again! I have a plan and this should be finished by the end of the summer. I saw a notification a little while ago that this was started over a year ago and I can't quite believe it. I've been on this website for so long and this was my first actual project so to have actually stuck with it for over a year is kinda insane. Thank you all so much for supporting this and sticking around, I have much in store yet to come. 👀👀

Thank you so much for all the love that this has gotten even when I haven't updated in months I appreciate it more than you know! I didn't respond to people's comments while I was away, but I have read them now and each one made me smile, so thank you!!! 💛💛💛
_________

Hashirama: Izuna! I'm so glad you're alive!
Izuna: *is emo* How can one be alive when their soul is dying inside
Hashirama: 0-o you ok buddy
Izuna: when i was, a young boy, my father, took me into the city~

*Madara and Kakashi blatantly flirting*
Hashirama: .... do they even realise it?
Mito: *pats* its ok, they'll figure it out eventually. Hopefully.

Chapter 23: In which clans are reunited

Notes:

oop meant to publish this last week, sorry folks. Will update again this weekend to make up for it xx

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“So, give me a good reason that I should let you into my compound.”

Nara Shikara looked angry, an expression Madara didn’t typically associate with the perpetually bored clan. Given how intimidating her broad scowl was, he was rather glad that it wasn’t something he’d encountered before.

“Shikara,” Hashirama started, peering up at where the clan leader stood atop the tall wooden gate that led into the compound they had been not so long ago, “Are our clans inside?”

Madara dearly hoped so, he wasn’t sure where else they could be. They weren’t at the old clan compounds; those were left burned ruins when their small group had swung by them on their journey south from the capital.

It had been a special type of hopelessness to stumble upon the last burned remains of your past home and realise you truly had nowhere to go. He could only hope that Hikaku had taken the rest of their warriors here to join up with the non-fighting members of their clans that had fled when the village was attacked.

They had been travelling for days and Madara was tired.

And not in the best of moods.

His back hurt from sleeping on the ground, the more nights passed the colder it got, and they still didn’t have a real plan for how they were going to take back their home. Seeing Hikaku again and resting somewhere surrounded by allies almost sounded too good to be true when they had approached the Nara compound. Now, confronted with an angry Nara clan leader it was beginning to look like it might be.

Shikara tapped a finger on a vambrace, panels carved from the deer antlers the clan was known for, “We’ve been friends for a long time Senju, but you’ve brought your war to my doorstep. You push the boundaries of our bond.”

Hashirama winced, his brother stepping up to stand beside him in silent support, “I know I ask a lot, but you have to know I never intended any of this to happen.”

“No one with good intentions ever does,” the Nara sighs, jumping down from the gate to speak with them on an even level, “but that doesn't change the fact that you and your Uchiha allies are enemies of the state, a state that is somehow more powerful than I’ve ever seen.”

Madara huffed a disbelieving laugh, “Are you scared of the civilians Nara?”

She swung dark eyes over to him, cutting through his bravado with an ease Madara found quite unnerving, “No, I’m scared of the shinobi who seemed to be able to take on four of the strongest shinobi in our country and win with ease, your clansmen told us what happened when your brother was taken.”

Hashirama’s eyes brightened, “So you did shelter our clans!”

Shikara returned her eyes to the Senju with a lingering glare at Madara, “Of course, I’m not heartless. I even let the second group show up after they got chased out of your old compound.”

Hashirama stepped forward to take the Nara’s hands in his, squeezing tightly, “Thank you my friend, you can’t know how much your support means.”

She snorts, “Oh don’t get too comfortable Senju, you owe me.”

Tobirama cleared his throat, “Can we come inside then?”

“It would be a waste to turn you away now I suppose, though you seem to continue to be collecting strays,” Her gaze passed over Kakashi to rest on Mito, “Uzumaki-hime, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

Mito dipped her head slightly, “A pity Nara-sama, I’ve heard remarkable things about you and your clan. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, despite being under such inauspicious conditions.”

Shikara blinked and smiled, “Manners, a rarity in our world, you are welcome in our compound.”

With that the Nara spun on her heels and strolled back towards the gate, the heavy wood creaking open without a word from the clan leader. Following closely behind her, Madara soon found himself back in the compound in which this whole farcical situation started. Back when his only problem was Hashirama’s troublesome peace meetings and Kakashi was only a troublesome rogue diplomat.

Not that Kakashi wasn’t still troublesome, the man was like a mould that was impossible to get out of the corners of Madara’s mind no matter how hard he scrubbed at them. The sort of troublesome that was much more deeply rooted in shared experiences and secrets that Madara still itched to pry out of Kakashi’s mask-covered mouth.

He hadn’t had much time to talk to the other nin in their frantic journey from the capital as their brief stops were spent sleeping and eating.

And enduring the frigid tension that emanated from Izuna even days after his rescue.

Madara had thought that once Izuna had seen that the Senju were truly on their side his anger might fade slightly, that things might click back into place and some semblance of normalcy might return.

He was wrong.

Maybe it was the fact that Izuna hadn’t smiled for days, or that Kakashi had taken to watching his brother like he was something to be dissected. Or maybe the fact that Hashirama didn’t seem to have a plan at all for what was to happen next beyond ‘go to the Nara and hope for the best’. Now that they’d achieved the first part of that plan Madara could only continue to do the second and hope with the aid of their clanmates they could come up with something better.

Walking through the trees that framed the entrance to the village brought back an acute sense of deja vu. The broad oaks were orange, fully in the grip of fall at this point, and a strong breeze wafted down from the mountains to rattle the leaves and blow the driest ones off to swirl around the group as they walked.

Passing into a more central area of the compound, Madara was greeted by a sight that brought about acute relief; Hikaku was standing just outside one of the smaller buildings, engaging in what looked to be a serious discussion with Senju Touka.

Just in front of him Hashirama let out a small sound and the Senju bolted forward towards the pair. Looking up just in time, Touka’s eyes widened as she was tackled in a hug by the clan leader, who began blubbering nonsensical greetings much to her visible chagrin.

Hikaku looked taken aback for a moment by the Senju cannonball before his eyes rose to fall on Madara and Izuna, acute relief of his own falling over his face, “Madara-sama, about time you showed up.”

Madara smiled, stretching tired muscles that hadn’t been used in a few days at least, “Didn’t want to leave you out of the fun entirely Hikaku, thought we’d at least swing by before retaking our home.”

Hikaku gave a muted smile that radiated genuine relief as Izuna clasped his arm in greeting, “I’m glad you’re alive cousin, though you should know better than to get kidnapped, you’re not exactly a child anymore.”

Izuna rolled his eyes, the ghost of a smile twisting his lips up slightly, “Ah yes, next time a homicidal, overpowered relative comes to town I’ll just not get taken, I’m sure it’ll be easy.”

Hikaku took a deep breath, “A relative huh, that makes things complicated doesn't it.”

“You don’t know half of it,” Madara scoffed, “The silver menace over there knows him.”

The silver menace in question waved cheerily at Madara’s half-hearted glare and loped over with easy grace from where he was conversing with Mito, “Is Madara slandering my good name?”

Hikaku raised a brow, “You’re addressing Madara-sama awfully familiarly.”

Madara coughed, “It’s fine Hikaku, Hatake is just like that.”

Hikaku gave a distinctly unimpressed hum, exchanging a look with Izuna who just rolled his eyes.

Madara coughed again, refusing to discuss this particular subject with his overprotective cousin and brother, “Our trip to the capital was a success, we were in and out with very little resistance.”

“A walk in the park really, I’m surprised they had so few shinobi guarding a warrior of your calibre, Izuna,” Kakashi added blandly, voice almost too even to be natural.

Izuna blinked, “They underestimated the tenacity of an Uchiha I suppose, brother breezed past them with ease.”

“With the help of the Senju,” Madara added, not wanting his cousin to think he took on the capital all on his own.

Izuna’s cool posture stiffened for a moment, lips twitching downwards before resuming his movement with an easy shrug, “With the help of the Senju, Hatake, and the Uzumaki princess of course.”

Hikaku blinked, dark eyes flickering between Izuna and Kakashi for a moment, “I see. Is the princess staying then? She and Hashirama look rather close.”

Madara twisted around to see Hashirama practically leaning against the Uzumaki, loudly conversing with some of the clan members that had made their way into the open to greet their clan leader. They did look rather close.

Huh.

Kakashi snorted, badly trying to disguise it with a hasty cough.

Madara looked at him with a raised eyebrow. The silver haired nin simply raised one of his own in response, as if to say ‘what?’.

“Make it stop,” Izuna gagged, dramatically throwing a hand over his brow.

Hikaku made a small sound, face drawn as he glanced between the two, “Ah. I see.”

“See what?” Madara blinked at his cousin, what was with people these days? He would think he had something on his face with the number of odd glances others had been giving him lately. He rubbed his cheek self-consciously, maybe he had a crumb of food stuck on his face from lunch?

“Madara!” Hashirama’s call echoed across the small clearing, and as with most things he did, his volume drew the attention of not just Madara but the whole clearing.

The Senju blinked at the sight of everyone turning towards him, “ah, I just wanted to suggest we move inside for a bit of planning?”

Nara Shikara was accommodating after a small amount of initial grumbling and ushered them into the meeting room that they had been in at their first meeting here. Madara toed at a bit of mat that was still stained slightly brown-red, a small remnant of the murder that had occurred here. Now with all of them sitting around this table once again, it felt like both an age and no time at all had passed.

“So,” Nara Shikara started, steepling her hands in front of herself loosely on the table, “You want to take back your home, I want you out of mine. How can we make this happen?”

Hashirama let out a wet sigh, something rattling in his chest that had Madara wondering if his friend had swallowed a bit of the bog they had spent so much time in, “Touka says the village is held by the Hyuuga and Inuzuka, and that the Aburame have been called in as well by the daimyo’s army. She said the Aburame came through the old compounds as well, which is why they had to flee here.”

Madara scowled, Hikaku had explained that briefly on their way to the meeting room, the bug freaks had chased the Uchiha out as well, leaving cinders of the compound in their wake. His fist clenched itself tightly against his leg, the more things that were taken from him and his clan the more he wanted to take them back with blood and fury. The history in their old home alone being destroyed by those who knew nothing of it made his stomach turn and his blood boil.

Izuna sneered, “The Aburame, what a joke.”

Kakashi sat in a corner of the room in between Mito and Shikara, tapping a long finger on his thigh, which Madara had learned was Kakashi-speak for he was thinking quite deeply about this latest development.

“They won’t be able to use the natural defences of the forest like I was able to,” Hashirama continued, “But they still have the advantage of sheer numbers and supplies, now that all we have is what is on our backs and a few boxes of stores.”

Mito hummed thoughtfully, “I may be able to help enhance what we do have if there’s spare parchment and pigments, it won’t be anything extreme, but some seals may help make up for some of where we lack.”

Shikara nodded, “I’ll dig out what I can find, we will provide what we have to spare. If you win your battles, maybe you won’t come back here again.”

Tobirama leaned forward, a glint of some insane idea in his eyes, “What if you came with us?”

“Tobi!” Hashirama squawked, “We can’t be asking others to fight our battles!”

The albino raised an eyebrow, “We asked Mito, and we were going to ask the Inuzuka before they betrayed us.”

Hashirama shook his head emphatically, “We were offering the Inuzuka a place in the village, that was different.”

Tobirama sighed loudly, gesturing to Nara Shikara roughly, “Exactly, we offer the Nara a place in the village.”

Shikara had both brows raised high, “You say this as if the Nara want a place in a village that, let me remind you, had been both threatened by the daimyo and successfully taken by his contracted shinobi, not exactly an appealing option.”

Madara had been following this with disbelief rising high in his throat, what was Tobirama talking about? And why had he not discussed this with them before this?

Mito leaned forward onto her elbows, “What if the village guaranteed the Nara, Yamanaka and Akimichi a place at any future date. You wouldn’t have to affiliate with us right away, but whenever you wanted to.”

Shikara scowled, a hint of irritation entering her features, “You miss the point Uzumaki-hime, why would we want to affiliate, we’re doing perfectly fine on our own.”

Tobirama tapped a finger on the table impatiently, “Nara-sama, you have to know that the daimyo is envious of any power centre outside his own, he was so afraid of us that he turned our fellow ninja against us, who’s to say that after we’re defeated, he wouldn't turn his attention south? Now that he’s obviously more attuned to ninja matters than in the past.”

“What do you suggest then Senju?” Shikara’s mouth pulled to the side in a scowl that was now tinged with thoughtfulness, “We make ourselves too big of a target to attack?”

“Exactly.”

Madara let Tobirama’s words hang in the air for a moment before letting his own disbelief fizzle into irritation, “Hold on a minute, you can’t be serious!”

“Now Madara, it could work...” Hashirama trailed off, eyes glazed over in concentration like he was rewriting plans in his head, “If we had the support of the Nara and their allies, we would almost be at a numbers advantage.”

Shikara tapped a finger on a vambrace, “You understand that you are asking me to commit my clan to a conflict we have no stakes in, in exchange for some intangible position in a place that doesn't exist at the moment.”

Hashirama winced, “Well-”

“I wouldn't say no stakes,” Kakashi cut in, exposed eye dark and serious, “The daimyo has concerned himself with the affairs of shinobi, you are a ninja clan are you not?”

Shikara narrowed her eyes, “Yes but-”

“And you acknowledge that after the Uchiha and Senju you hold the second most power in the region?”

“I would say the most power given their current state,” The clan leader bit back, eyes focused fully on the silver haired shinobi.

“Then you are a threat,” Kakashi shrugged, “The daimyo is obviously scared of shinobi clans with too much power, you now have the most in the region by your own words. You really think he won’t come after your alliance next?”

The rest of the room was quiet, and Madara’s attention was carefully on Kakashi. He had refrained from saying anything so far but was now speaking with such sure conviction that Madara wondered why he had remained quiet.

Shikara looked thoughtfully at him, “Why would they come after us after years of not caring?”

Kakashi huffed a laugh that felt more like a formality than anything of real emotion, “Apparently he has new advisors.”

“The one that defeated the best shinobi of our time.”

Kakashi nodded, “Do you really want him coming after you?”

Silence fell over the room in a heavy blanket, imbuing a tension in the room as the Nara clan leader held Kakashi’s silver gaze with ease.

Shikara stood, knocking a fist against the table as she did, “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, and your dedication to taking back your home, this isn't a discussion I can be having without the input of my allies. You’ve given me a lot to think about which I will discuss with the Yamanaka and Akimichi.”

She looked around, resignation beginning to etch itself into the planes of her face, “You're all a bunch of lunatics, aren’t you?”

Hashirama gave a grin that edged on manic, “That’s one way to put it, my friend”

The Nara stepped around Mito and exited the room with a huff, muttering about crazy Senju and troublesome politics.

Izuna barked a harsh laugh, “You Senju really want to pull everyone into your schemes.”

Tobirama shot a poisonous glare across the table, “You mean we want to offer everyone a chance at peace.”

“Oh yes,” Izuna sneered, “Because everyone knows that offering someone peace means making them fight in a new war.”

The albinos red eyes narrowed, “Just because you don’t understand the sacrifices needed to make peace doesn't me-”

“I don’t understand the sacrifices?” Izuna’s response cut through the air like a whip, making Madara shiver with the killing intent that followed.

“Well,” Mito frowned, breaking in through the tension with practised grace, “Why don’t we all head out for a bit, it might be a good idea to actually find out what supplies your clanmates managed to scavenge from your old compounds.”

Hashirama looked at the Uzumaki like she’d just hung the stars, “A grand idea, perhaps Touka managed to bring some etching tools as well, to help with your seal work.”

Kakashi nodded slowly, still looking pensively after where Shikara had exited, “I’ll go see if there are any Akimichi and Yamanaka representatives around the village, see what the general mood is. No use in pursuing a strategy that has no support of the clans.”

Madara watched them file out of the room, Kakashi sparing a blink (or was it a wink) for him as he slipped past.

Izuna simply growled low in his throat and turned his glare to the floor, not moving while the Senju filed out of the room after the Uzumaki.

Soon the brothers were properly alone for the first time since the capital. Allowing any pretences to drop Madara flopped backwards onto the ground with a groan, stretching his legs out in front of him until he was properly sprawling.

“Do you think their hairbrained plot will work?” Izuna’s voice was quiet in the paper walled room, mats and draping muffling any echo.

He sighed, turning his head until he was looking sideways up at his brother, “I think we don’t have that many options.”

His brother looked pensive, hugging one knee to his middle and the other a hair’s from knocking into Madara’s, “I wish none of this had happened.”

“Do you wish we were still at war?” Madara let a little bit of his irritation bleed into his voice, tired of rehashing this.

Izuna shot him a poisonous glare, “We still are brother, just now with a different enemy and now without a home.”

Madara made a small sound of irritation and turned his gaze to the ceiling, “We deal with what we’ve got brother, and these are the card’s we’ve been dealt.”

Izuna shifted slightly, the rustle of his clothes against the mats a quiet rasp, “Do you ever wonder who the dealer might be?”

Madara propped himself up on his elbows, looking over at his brother with a stern look, “Izuna I’m not going to discuss this with you again.”

“It was really dark in the cave Madara, I had a lot of time to think,” Izuna pursed his lips, looking away from Madara and towards one of the corners of the mat that hadn’t been fully cleaned of blood, “I don’t want to go back there. I just think we need to be careful in how we proceed.”

Concern bloomed in Madara’s chest, and he knocked his knee against his brothers, “You know I won’t let him take you ever again right?”

Izuna's tight expression softened a touch, though his eyes were still tense in the corners, “I’m glad you came for me brother. I... wasn’t sure I would ever see you again.”

Madara took a deep breath and leaned over to his brother to poke him directly in the forehead, “Idiot, I’ll always come for you.”

Izuna’s small smile wavered, voice turning quiet and laced with something small and desperate, “You know I’d do the same for you right? I would do anything for you and our clan.”

Madara tilted his head and nodded, “Of course ‘zuna.”

Izuna let out a shuddering breath and Madara was faced with the awful realisation that his little brother was very close to tears. But before he could do anything besides awkwardly reach towards him, Izuna stood up from the floor, reaching down a hand for Madara to take without a word.

“Izuna,” Madara trailed off, looking up at his brother without taking his hand, “We’ll get through this, we will, and then we’ll have peace. Finally.”

“Peace,” His brother repeated, a discomforted look on his face.

“Peace.” Madara confirmed, finally taking Izuna’s hand and rising from the floor to pull him into a brief hug, “And you won’t have to do what I’ve done to protect the clan. That’s what peace is.”

Izuna sighed, muffled by Madara’s shoulder, “I hope you’re right brother. I really do.”

Madara hoped he was right too.

Leaving Izuna with Hikaku to discuss their current numbers, Madara made his way to the small store of equipment they had managed to stockpile. It was rather sad, taking up only a portion of one of the small huts their clan had apparently been allocated. A few crates made of warped aged wood, a bundle of swords that appeared to be more rust than metal, and a few carvings that Hikaku had rescued from Amaterasu’s shrine.

He grimaced, this wasn’t a lot to work with and he could only hope the Senju had managed slightly better.

Poking through one of the crates a rare stroke of good luck seemed to appear in the form of some cloaks folded at the bottom. They were hearty things, and while they certainly weren’t new, Madara doubted that they were even made in his lifetime, they were sturdy and made with Uchiha tenacity.

He pulled one of the thicker ones out and swung it around his shoulders, the rough fabric rubbing against his collar. It was not quite his mantle, a bit too thin and lacking the layers that added to his protection, but it was something familiar. The Uchiwa proudly embossed across the back filling him with purpose and the chakra woven through the fabric was a welcome warmth the brushed up against his skin.

It was with slight hesitation that he dug through the crate again to pull out another of their few cloaks. However, Madara felt that it was important that their plans have every chance of succeeding, and that meant everyone had to have the equipment they needed to make that happen.

And that meant Kakashi needed some form of protection beside the simple black long sleeve he was sporting.

The Uchiha cloaks were nothing like proper armour, Madara ached for his own heavy plates of protection, but they were something. Sewn with fire resistant thread and thick enough to dispel some minor jutsus they were perfect in a pinch. Perhaps he could even try and convince Mito to put some of her fancy seals on them to give them a little extra protection.

Of course, if he was honest with himself, he didn’t have entirely pure motives. He had wondered how Kakashi would look draped in Uchiha colours the moment he knew the man had a sharingan, how his silver hair would contrast with the red and white of the Uchiwa.

Madara tightened his hands in the material of the second cloak, feeling the thick fabric crease in his fingers. It was something he could do to weigh down the flighty man and maybe make him be still for a moment.

So no, his motives weren’t purely out of good will, but he was certain Kakashi wasn’t acting out of pure goodness either, so it made him feel slightly better.

The only issue now was finding the bane of his existence. Madara frowned as he made his way through the compound, ducking around trees and huts. Why was it that the one time he actually wanted to find the other man he was nowhere to be found?

Old Norio made a very strange expression at him as he passed, the elder having made himself at home on the porch of one of the huts with the other elders. Madara couldn't tell if the elder’s face held a touch less animosity then normal, or if it was just him, but seemed like some glimmer of goodwill eked its way onto the old Uchiha’s face, twisting wizened skin into an expression that could have expressed relief if it’s owner wasn’t also sharpening his cane with a wickedly large knife at the same time.

He passed Hikaku and Mito quietly discussing something over a crudely sketched map in the dirt, Shikara looking on from across the clearing with a troubled frown alongside a few nin that had the milky eyes of Yamanaka and the plushness of Akimichi, and Hashirama and Touka talking with a few children of both Uchiha and Senju aesthetics. He stopped briefly at the last one, blinking dumbly at the sight of Senju and Uchiha children holding hands of all things and listening intently to what had to be one of Hashirama’s wild stories by the looks of his hand gestures.

Children were adaptable, he remembered, but it still dazzled him a little just how much. It made something small jump up and down in his chest that felt scarily like hope. If they made it through this crisis perhaps his dreams of peace wouldn't be so unachievable. The next generation of Uchiha could grow up in a place where it was ok to be friends with a Senju, they wouldn’t have to worry about their siblings being murdered in a pointless war.

That is if they actually did get through this crisis.

It wasn’t until he’d made his way all the way to the back of the compound, near the base of the hill they’d escaped up last time, that he spotted a familiar shock of silver hair.

Kakashi was leaned up against the side of a larger hut, talking with a small group of Nara elders gathered on the porch, who seemed to be charmed by the sound of low chuckles drifting through the air.

“Hatake,” Madara greeted, nodding to the elders as well, “I see you’ve been making friends?”

Kakashi lazily bumped his shoulder in greeting, “Indeed Madara-chan, you’ve been replaced with Yuki-san and Akira-san here.”

One of the elders snorted loudly, “You keep telling yourself that Hatake.”

The silver haired shinobi crinkled his eye into a grin, “I suspect you’ll be repeating my claims of friendship the next time you need to get your cat out of a tree, so we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

With a few more laughs from the elders the two younger shinobi were waved off, Madara trailing slightly behind as Kakashi led the way to the next hut.

Madara blinked and rubbed the back of his neck, “What was that about?”

Kakashi raised his brow at him, “Come now Madara, I’m sure as a clan leader you know the importance that elders have on the making of big decisions. When Shikara comes to ask for their advice they’ll have wonderful things to say about the benefits of living in a village, like handsome helpful shinobi to do errands for them.”

“Ah”

“Ah indeed,” Kakashi repeated, tut-tutting under his breath, “Sometimes I wonder how-”

He was cut off by someone clearing their throat from the small doorway of the building they were passing.

“Ah, I thought I heard some familiar self-loathing,” From inside the hut a short elder emerged, white hair streaked with the remnants of blonde, pale pupil-less eyes even paler with age.

Beside him Kakashi paled slightly at the sight of the strange Yamanaka elder they had met at the ill-fated peace conference, “Kaede-sama I believe?”

The aged kunoichi grinned, “You remember! I really did spook you then, didn’t I?”

Madara narrowed his eyes, “You’re the mind reader, aren’t you?”

Kaede nodded, eyes still amused crescents, “You aren’t afraid though are you Uchiha Madara, not of me at least.”

“I have a lot of things to be afraid of, an old woman isn’t one of them,” He replied, crossing his arms defensively across his chest.

Kaede ignored him, making a small noise of dismissal, and turned back to Kakashi with a gleam in her pale eyes, “Now you, Hatake Kakashi, you are afraid of me.”

Kakashi shifted uncomfortably on his feet, staring doggedly at the roof above Kaede’s head and not into her eyes, “I like my privacy.”

She hummed, twinkle in her eyes fading to something more knowing, “Because you have things to hide.”

Madara, sensing the rising tension, coughed, “It was a pleasure to see you again Kaede-sama, perhaps you could leave Hatake’s secrets alone until he’s ready to share them however?”

“Hm,” The aged kunoichi looked between the two of them for a moment before letting out a loud cackle, “What a pair. Go on then, perhaps with some help you can fix this mess you think you’ve caused, Hatake Kakashi.”

With one last wince Kakashi turned away from Kaede and her hut, not looking back once as Madara hurried after him, “Oi, don’t listen to her.”

The silver harried shinobi scoffed, rounding the corner of a path abruptly and turning back to face Madara once he was slightly in the shadow of the building, “About what? The fact that this is my fault?”

Madara sighed, “Look I don’t know what that old lady meant, this isn’t your fault. Just cause you know a lunatic doesn't make you one too. You didn’t cause this.”

Kakashi glanced up at him, meeting Madara’s eyes with one cold grey one, “I think if you knew everything you might change your mind.”

Madara scowled, “If you want to tell me then I’ll listen, but not if it’s just more cryptic bullshit.”

Kakashi held his eyes challengingly for a moment, before sighing and letting his gaze drop to the small parcel Madara had tucked under his arm, “What’s that?”

Madara blinked, almost forgetting the main purpose of him going to find Kakashi in the first place, “Ah, I thought you might want something with a little bit of protection for the battle.”

He unfurled the cloak, holding it aloft in front of him to show Kakashi what it was, though not so high that he couldn't see the other man’s expression.

And oh, was the whole thing worth it just for this.

Kakashi’s eye widened comically, brow high and the faint outline of parted lips visible through his past, “Madara-”

His slight irritation at their previous interaction faded in an instant, melting into liquid embarrassment that he could feel licking at his cheeks. He both cursed and felt gratitude for his brazenness as he drank in the myriad emotions, he could see flashing over the small visible portion of Kakashi’s face.

“Madara,” Kakashi repeated, a note of something serious entering his voice, “Thank you.”

Instead of attempting to say something that he knew may come out slightly squeaky, Madara simply nodded and held out the cloak for Kakashi to take. When the other nin swung it around his shoulders he was certainly glad he didn’t try to talk as it seemed all the moisture in his throat had disappeared in an instant.

Kakashi in Uchiha colours was just as breath-taking as he’d thought he would be.

It was almost painful.

The black matched with the tight shirt he seemed to prefer and set off his skin and hair beautifully. The cloak Madara had grabbed, quite by accident, had hemming done around the edges in a dark red thread and blue dappling around the hood, for camouflage perhaps? Whatever the reason, the blue made his hair look icy silver, almost white in the short shadows of mid-afternoon.

Actually, it was painful.

Madara felt a little unsettled, something small and electric buzzing underneath his skin. It felt right to have Kakashi in Uchiha garb. He thinks it would feel even more right if it was his cloak and not some random one from the extra stores.

He decided not to give that particular thought any more time or he may end up doing something rather stupid.

The birds chirped loudly overhead, ringing over the quiet noise of the compound outskirts. The wind had picked up slightly as well, bringing with it the sounds of laughter drifting from the centre of camp. The promise of revenge and the return of their clan leaders had put the Senju and Uchiha in a good mood.

Kakashi fiddled with the hem of his cloak, “Do you often give out Uchiha property to rogue diplomats?”

Madara shook his head, pulling together the shards of his self-control to speak evenly, “Nope, which is another reason to be careful in the battle to come, I need that cloak back Hatake.”

Kakashi blinked back at him lazily, lashes dragging slowly down and up again, “There you go being concerned for me, and yet you won’t say my name.”

Madara shrugged, lips twitching upwards at the familiar banter, “Why should I, you still don’t show me the proper respect.”

“Respect,” Kakashi repeated slowly, “Do you want me to show you respect?

Madara leaned a hair closer, “Do you want me to say your name?”

Kakashi hummed, “Oh very much so, preferably multiple times in a variety of tones.”

Madara swayed closer, (not a swoon, he’d kill anyone that called it a swoon), “How forward.”

Kakashi made a small noise of amusement that sent a shudder down Madara’s spine, “100 years ago the cloak you just gave me would be taken as a marriage proposal Madara, you’re one to talk about forwardness.”

Madara looked over Kakashi’s shoulder, fighting the flush threatening to rise all the way to the roots of his hair, “Well perhaps-”

“Madara? Kakashi?”

He sprang backwards, meeting Tobirama’s confused gaze with wide eyes.

The Senju flicked his eyes between the two of them before grimacing, “If you’re... done, Nara Shikara wants to talk with us again, the Yamanaka and Akimichi clan leaders are on their way. They’re curious.”

“Well, let’s go then,” Kakashi replied flippantly, turning to walk towards Tobirama, cloak swishing behind him in a way that drew Madara’s eyes.

He allowed himself a moment of silent, selfish satisfaction before swallowing harshly and following after them.

This could wait until after they had their home back.

Notes:

more politicking mwahaha, have you checked the tags?

Also cockblock tobirama strikes again and that gives me joy.

you know what else gives me joy? over 2000 kudos 😮😮 y'all are nuts and I love it. thank you for all the support!!! 💛💛💛

This is sort of an inbetween chapter, not a whole lot of action but some important bits set into motion. Next chapter is a big one that i'm called the siege of konoha in my drafts so take from that what you will.
_______________
Shikara: God not these fuckers again, why won't you leave me alone!
Hashirama: *Magical girl transformation* with the power of friendship on our side we can never lose! Help us Shikara and embrace the friendship!

Madara and Kakashi: *Having a moment*
Tobirama: *bursts in like the kool aid man* my time has come, I may not be able to fight the Uchiha anymore but I can sure as hell make their lives as frustrating as possible

Chapter 24: In which Kakashi invades the only place he thought he wouldn’t

Notes:

So when I said next weekend I actually meant this particular friday *finger guns*

enjoy!~

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It was an odd experience approaching Konoha with the intent to invade, to sneak into a place he normally considered a haven. It was a hazy predawn hour that they had chosen to make their move, and the forest was thick with the sound of crickets and other night-time critters waking up. Beyond the chirping of insects and the croaking of a few frogs, an owl’s distant hooting broke through the silence that had settled on their group.

That was their signal. 

Kakashi rose from his crouch and followed on light feet behind Madara and Hashirama. Behind him, Izuna and Tobirama hissed directions to the Senju and Uchiha fighters hidden in the vegetation, and as a group, they moved closer. They worked their way through the low-growing vegetation that characterised the younger forests that sloped up to Konoha just beyond the cliffs.

Another slightly louder hoot rang through the air, followed by distant yelling and the clanging of a loud bell- the alarm system must have been triggered. 

Good. 

Kakashi smirked slightly behind his mask, hand dropping to the familiar weight of blades strapped to his waist. They weren’t exactly the best quality weapons, but hopefully, if things went according to plan, he wouldn’t need his finest. 

And what a plan it was, he missed having the Nara on his side.

The Nara-Yamanaka-Akimichi alliance hadn’t been easy to convince, and Kakashi wasn’t sure they were entirely sold, but Nara Shikara at least saw the logic in making oneself too big of a target to hit and so convinced the other clans. It was a blessing in disguise really, Kakashi still wasn’t sure how thrown off the timeline was by now, this certainly wasn’t how the three clans joined his Konoha. 

But it was a step in the right direction. 

He slid a blade off his waist and into his hand, using it to mark a small symbol in the ground that Mito had shown him, pushing a small bit of his chakra into it as he felt a veil-like layer of chakra spread across him like gossamer. Ahead of him, Madara shuddered too at the feeling of his chakra; now wasn’t that flattering.

The seals were simple, something he vaguely remembered Kushina trying to show him ages ago, though stealth wasn’t exactly her strength and so she had little to actually show him. But from what he remembered and what Mito had told him in a small crash course, the goal of this seal wasn’t to disguise their presence entirely, rather it was to fudge the perception of anyone that noticed them. If someone heard a sound that one of them made, for example, their mind might go to the various animals in the forest, it was quite a clever bit of work Kakashi thought, closer to a genjutsu than fuuinjutsu. Something to aid in their stealthy approach to the village until they were ready to reveal themselves.

He just hoped it worked.

Their plan was rather simple: the Nara, Yamanaka and Akimichi would attack from the front, blustering that now that the Uchiha and Senju were out of the way they wanted the village they built for themselves. Silly if anyone stopped to think about it for a moment, the village wasn’t even fully complete, and the Nara were smarter than to draw the attention of the daimyo, but it would hold up for the few hours they needed it to. 

The Uchiha and Senju would enter from the other side and flank them from the rear, taking control of the important buildings in the village as they went. If they cut the ties from their leaders, they hoped the defending clans would fold. If they were primarily motivated by money and the daimyo's orders, then surely their leaders would order them to stand down once they were captured.

They weren’t here to wage days of siege; they were here to take their home back. 

Brushing past low shrubbery and tall grasses Kakashi could see the first buildings drawing closer. The outskirts were still half-constructed, buildings without roofs or doors, some still just beams. It was like walking through a ghost town as they stepped foot onto the sandy path that had been carved through the grasses and up through the first layers of buildings.

There were two paths that led from this side of the village up to the centre, where the administration building sat, and the Uchiha had decided to take the left-hand one. Kakashi followed closely behind Madara as the two clans split at the branching of the two streets, Izuna just a half-step behind him. The clan leader wasn’t quite decked out in the armour that Kakashi remembered from their first meeting, but he at least was back in Uchiha gear, a heavy black cloak that swirled around his legs like smoke. 

A cloak whose symbol Kakashi could almost feel burning through the thick material draped over his own shoulders. The weight of it was just as heavy now as it had been when Madara had given it to him, which was almost as heavy as Madara’s eyes had been.

Gods, Kakashi had wanted to devour him.

Not that he had any time to do so in the last few days, with the clan leader being too busy doing clan leader things.

(He had forgotten the amount of planning that went into a good invasion)

And it seemed that planning paid off, as they made their way closer and closer to the centre, not a single shinobi stood in their way, seemingly all been called towards the fighting. It wasn’t until the imposing shape of the administration building itself that they encountered any resistance. Madara led the way up to the building on soft feet, edging around the rounded sides towards the entrance. Kakashi tightened his grip on the crisscrossed hilt of one of his knives, feeling the cording pressing into his palm.

As the door, and the two shinobi guarding it, inched into view around the curvature of the walls Kakashi flashed forwards with a shunshin, taking him to the side of the guard on the left side of the door, blade slipping in between the man’s ribs while his other hand covered the half-shout of pain and alarm coming from the guard’s mouth. Kakashi twisted his blade once to make sure the man was dead before lowering him to the ground and rising back to his feet.

Opposite him Tobirama appeared from the other side of the building, a wicked sharp sword appearing from the folds of the Senju’s furred cloak and jabbing upwards through the bottom of the guard’s jaw and up out through his skull. The only sound the other guard made was a small gurgle before his eyes rolled back in his head and he folded unto himself and joined Kakashi’s guard slumped on the ground.

Madara and Hashirama stepped around them to look up at the small sign reading administration hanging somewhat crookedly atop the door frame. 

Hashirama’s lips were thin, hands planted firmly on his hips, “We’ll continue on towards the front, attack from behind and cut off any communication.” 

Madara nodded grimly, “We’ll head in and clear what we can, we have the flares if we need backup.” 

The flares had been Kakashi’s idea. He didn’t doubt their abilities to take on the clan leadership they expected to be in the administration building, but with the unknown that was Obito in the picture, he wasn’t taking any chances. 

(He really hoped Obito wasn’t here)

With one last nod, Hashirama turned back towards the streets, Tobirama following him with a swish of his cloak and the rest of the Senju detachment slinking after them. 

Beside him Madara took a deep breath and glanced over at him, eyes flickering between him and where Izuna was standing half a pace away, “Are you ready?” 

Kakashi grinned behind his mask with a levity he didn’t quite feel, pushing the cloth over Obito’s eye up onto his forehead to wink at the Uchiha, “Of course Madara-chan, when am I not ready to topple a government?” 

Madara gave a grin that showed both of his canines, “Let's show those bastards a thing or two then.” 

Izuna simply cracked his knuckles, glowering at the building that towered over them in the near darkness.

Madara kicked open the door with an ear-shattering crash, sending the solid wood clattering inwards to hit the far wall and slide to the floor with a resounding thump. 

All three shinobi winced. 

“Stealth, Madara!” Izuna hissed, throwing his brother a truly poisonous glare, “What don’t you understand about stealth !” 

Madara shrugged half-heartedly, stepping through the empty door frame with a grin playing on his lips, “Well it’s not like they wouldn't know we weren’t there once we got in.” 

Kakashi shook his head, stepping through into the entrance after the idiot that he had chosen to follow. He really needed better taste in men.

As he emerged into the foyer, he was already moving his hands from ram to boar and quickly into dog, sending bullets of water flying down the corridor, sending the Inuzuka kunoichi running down it flying backwards with a shout. 

“Good aim,” Madara shot him a grin, pulling his own blade out of the unlucky shinobi that had rushed him with a wet shsk.

Kakashi winked at him, “It helps when I have both eyes open.” 

Madara’s own eyes went slightly lidded, murmuring almost absentmindedly to himself, “Mhm, I can see.” 

Izuna faked a gag as he joined them in the foyer, narrowed crimson eyes darting between them, “I beg of you, do this literally anywhere other than the middle of an active invasion.” 

Madara flushed, the pretty kind that licked up his cheekbones in tongues that Kakashi adored to see on him. That made him want to do foolish things like bite along the man's neck until he left marks the same colour. As that was not an option at the moment, he settled for flipping the cloak he was wearing purposely over his shoulder as he turned so both Uchiha could see the emblem painted across his back. 

It was with Izuna’s strangled growl in the background that Kakashi strode up the hallway towards the stairwell, twirling a kunai around his thumb in preparation for the next shinobi.

They worked their way systematically up the building, leaving Uchiha Hikaku in the foyer to organise Uchiha shinobi throughout the building as they went up, serving both to guard their backs and to begin securing the building. It wasn’t hard fighting for the most part, while their enemies were certainly aware they were there, there simply weren’t that many of them guarding the various floors.

Either their plan to draw them away had worked, or they were all at the top.

Kakashi knew which one was more likely. 

When they finally reached the final floor, the floor that was reserved for a large meeting room and open terrace for viewing the village, they were only slightly worse for wear. Kakashi had a swallow scratch going up his left forearm, Izuna had a few inches of hair missing on his right side, and Madara had a large scorch mark on his knee. Not bad for the few dozen ninja they had scattered throughout the building. 

Without words and only a few glances shared between them, Madara opened the door to the final floor.

Kakashi cracked his knuckles, either Obito would be here, or he wouldn’t. He couldn't change anything now, he just had to be prepared.

He stepped through the door after Madara and Izuna, coils of anticipation wrapping around his throat like a vice. Coils that then snapped into something he wasn’t sure was relief, disappointment, or a potent cocktail of both when greeted with the sour face of Hyuuga Hisoka instead of his old teammate. 

He sighed, the Hyuuga were always such an annoyance .

“So you didn’t flee like a coward after all,” the cool voice of the Hyuuga clan leader rang out in the room, hair tied in the same neat topknot as the first time Kakashi had seen him and a small pair of glasses perched on his nose. He was standing tall behind the long table set in the middle of the room, putting an imposing amount of distance between himself and the door they had just walked through.

Madara bared his teeth at the Hyuuga and the small group of shinobi and kunoichi standing around him, “You dare call us cowards when you attacked my home when I wasn’t even there?” 

The Hyuuga shrugged nonchalantly, silk sleeves moving with his limbs as smooth as water, “How were we supposed to know you had run to beg a foreign clan for aid? I thought it beneath even the Uchiha scum.” 

Kakashi stepped forward, a careful hand on Madara’s shoulder to restrain the other from springing forward, “Why did you attack in the first place? Surely, you have your own infrastructure without needing to steal from clans you think are lesser than yourselves.” 

Hisoka sniffed disdainfully, “I serve my daimyo, that is all the answer you should need, traitor.”

Madara’s shoulder twitched under his palm, “If anyone’s a traitor it’s you Hyuuga, you’ve betrayed your fellow shinobi for a civilian .” 

“You are not my fellow shinobi, ” Hisoka sneered, “The Hyuuga are above your petty ways and wars.” 

Izuna gave a slightly manic cackle, “You call our wars petty and yet engage in one simply because a civilian says so.” 

Hisoka smiled a haughty cruel smile, “You would not say that if you knew the daimyo’s plans for the Land of Fire. We are simply playing our part in his grand design, and you need to play yours.”

Madara shrugged out of Kakashi’s grasp in an easy roll, tired of hearing this crap, not that Kakashi was particularly inclined to stop him, “You’ll regret this Hyuuga, you won’t find a friend in the Uchiha for 100 years. Know this before you choose to fight me.” 

Hisoka shrugged, a weirdly casual movement for the prim and proper clan leader, “I don’t expect I’ll need a friend of criminals and exiles.” 

Kakashi was moving before the Hyuuga finished his sentence, sharingan blazing as he layered genjutsu upon the room to confuse the enemy in subtle ways and his blade held tightly in his hand. 

Three shinobi with five sharingan between them versus ten or so enemies plus a clan leader. 

He liked their chances.

He liked them even more as his blade easily cut down two stunningly similar Aburame nin, must be twins, and as a quick fire jutsu from Madara sent their swarm of insects up in smoke. 

Nodding a quick thank you to the Uchiha he sprang across the room to go hand-to-hand with a pale-eyed Hyuuga, careful to dodge and avoid every hit. He would be useless if he let his chakra be impacted. Jumping backwards to avoid a particularly quick jab at his left side he took a moment to catch the kunoichi’s eyes, feeling his sharingan spin faster as he attempted to ensnare her in a genjutsu. No use in prolonging this if he could put her out of the fight without subjecting himself to the gentle fist technique any longer. 

Thankfully, this kunoichi didn’t seem to have much in the form of mental defences against sharingan enhanced genjustu and she froze in shivering terror as Kakashi wrapped layers of fear-inducing genjustu over her mind, including a particularly nasty one of having her eyes ripped out, hoping it would be extra effective on the dojutsu user.

He didn’t feel bad as the kunoichi whimpered in abject horror; it was simply the life of a ninja. He could have killed her. 

Kakashi barely had a moment to ruminate before a flash of steel in his periphery had him raising his blade to deflect a nastily serrated spear, the blade sliding against his own in an ear-splitting cacophony of noise. 

Behind the shinobi’s bared teeth and wide stance, Kakashi could see Madara and Izuna fighting back-to-back, blades flashing in between bursts of fire showing the brothers were doing just fine against the posse of Inuzuka and their dogs that had attacked them. 

The shinobi he was fighting tore his blade away with another screech of steel, springing backwards to thrust the spear forward again with a flash of chakra-induced power. Kakashi grunted as he caught it yet again against his smaller blade, the force pushing him backwards a metre or so, sandals sliding against the smooth wooden floors.  

This time, he deflected the spear to the side, sending his opponent stumbling off balance for a split second, all the time he needed to dash forward to drive his blade deep into the shinobi’s chest. Feeling flesh give way and the man choked on a scream, he slid his blade out allowing the man to fold onto the ground like a sack of potatoes. 

Across the room, barely having moved from his position behind the table, Hyuuga Hisoka watched him carefully, pale pupilless eyes not showing a hint of the worry that Kakashi felt might be warranted at this point. As the Uchiha dispatched the last of the Inuzuka surrounding them and turned their attention to the last man standing as well, Hisoka’s brow creased slightly. 

Slightly underwhelming in Kakashi’s opinion, perhaps they hadn’t fought brutally enough to intimidate him properly? Something in his pride stung slightly; he didn’t consider himself a proud man, but most people tended to be at least a little anxious about fighting him. Hyuuga Hisoka just seemed mildly vexed.

“You get one last chance to surrender,” Madara growled, flicking the blood off his blade in a smooth practised motion that definitely didn’t make Kakashi’s heart race slightly. 

Hisoka sniffed, “You are fools for undertaking this endeavour, fools for allying with a traitor, and fools for defying the rightful ruler of the Land of Fire.” 

Madara’s only response was a snarl before the Uchiha was running forward, up onto the table before jumping up into the air to flip once- twice- and then a third time, bringing his leg down harshly in a spinning downwards kick. 

Hisoka caught the Uchiha’s boot on his right gauntlet, loose silk sleeves pulling back to reveal light armour layered underneath, “Even if you defeat me, my allies are all still here.” 

Madara leapt backwards, whirling his cloak behind him like a cloud of smoke, “Then it’s a good thing I brought my own allies, isn’t it?” 

The Hyuuga’s eyes narrowed, “We shall see.” 

With that the Hyuuga clan leader sprang forward, meeting Madara up on the table with lightning-fast fists jabbing through the air. Madara blocked each blow with carefully measured movements, either deflecting with a gauntlet or using his surprising agility to lean or jump out of the way. 

It was hard to follow, the speed at which they began to exchange blows, and Kakashi saw Izuna squinting towards the fight as well.  

Madara drew back from the Hyuuga, dropping down to sink his fingers straight into the wood of the table beneath him, sending splinters flying into the air to make Hisoka hesitate long enough to quickly run through the hand seals for a jutsu.

Kakashi watched, slightly enchanted, as veins of liquid fire seemed to appear on Madara’s skin, tracing down his arms and hands and into the table, erupting into jets of flame that ran along the surface of the wood that leapt towards the Hyuuga clan leader as if possessed.

Hisoka hissed as the crackle of flames surrounded him, jumping backwards to avoid the torrent of fire towards the large terrace that bordered the room.

“Should we help him?” Kakashi asked Izuna mildly, tapping a finger on his forearm idly.

“No,” Izuna shook his head, a small smile playing on his face, “Brother can handle this on his own, it’s his duty as clan leader to take revenge for the wrong done to our clan anyways.” 

Kakashi hummed a vague agreement, he wasn’t sure about the ‘duty of revenge’ or anything, but Madara did seem to be handling himself perfectly fine. He watched as the Uchiha stalked down the table, flames seeming to lick at his skin but not burn, bathing him in orange light that caught the violent glint in his eyes perfectly. 

Hisoka stumbled backwards towards the large windows that opened towards the terrace, batting at a flame that had caught his long trailing sleeves and was spreading quickly upwards, “Listen Uchiha-” 

“Oh no,” Madara growled, hopping off the table to land in a light crouch in front of the Hyuuga, “You had your chances.” 

With that his leg shot forward, connecting with the Hyuuga’s front with a heavy booted foot, sending him careening backwards into the glass. The window shattered beautifully, almost in slow motion as the clan leader fell through it, shards of glass hitting the ground with musical tinkles. The fire roaring through the wood of the table reflected through the shards as they fell, scattering the light across the walls in sharp, shifting angles.

Despite all this, all Kakashi could focus on was Madara as he stalked through the few hanging shards of broken glass and out onto the terrace like a cloaked spectre of death, one with burning spinning eyes the exact colour of the liquid seeping out of Hyuuga Hisoka’s lovely silk sleeves. 

Fuck, Kakashi really liked Uchiha Madara. 

He especially liked that once Madara had wretched the clan leader's arm behind him and planted his boot firmly on the man’s hair, pinning him firmly to the floor, he looked up to meet Kakashi’s eyes with a large grin. It wasn’t what one could describe as a nice grin, slightly feral and a degree more violent than Kakashi would normally categorise as nice.

But by the gods if he didn’t enjoy having it pointed solely in his direction.

Izuna’s small smile grew into a satisfied smirk as he walked over the crunch of broken glass out onto the terrace, “Well well, fools are we?” 

Kakashi followed him, stepping out into the cool air of the morning twilight, a faint haze of light peeking over the horizon and the distant sounds and shouts of fighting still echoing distantly through the air. Though he couldn’t know for sure how the main battle was fairing, at least they hadn’t been routed in the time it had taken the Uchiha contingent to take the administration building.

Hyuuga Hisoka swallowed, teeth flashing in the near dark in a rather undignified snarl, “You’re still fools, you won’t get away with this.” 

Madara sneered, twisting his foot against the ground to pull at the man’s hair, “We already have. You’re the one who tried to take our home. ” 

Kakashi hummed lightly, “Now that we’ve come to an agreement about who can get away with what, I wonder if you could tell us what prompted the proud Hyuuga to take orders from someone else, a civilian even.” 

Hisoka sniffed, trying in vain to jerk his head away from Madara’s foot, “What my clan does is none of your business, Hatake, last time I checked your clan wasn’t exactly selective about who they took jobs from either.” 

Kakashi raised a brow, a grin playing on his lips beneath the mask, “Ah, Hatake am I now? I thought my name was traitor.” 

The clan leader’s mouth wrinkled, the expression belied slightly by how Madara’s foot was slowly wrenching his hair back in an effort to force him to look up, “You are a traitor, by statement of the daimyo.” 

Madara’s sneer twisted into something nasty, sharingan spinning threateningly, “And how exactly did the daimyo become so invested in the affairs of shinobi? Why does he care about Hatake?” 

A small trickle of blood trickled down the Hyuuga’s face, tracing a path down the cleft of his cheek and into the corner of his mouth, “I don’t have to answer your questions, you have no standing in the Land of Fire anymore.” 

Izuna crouched before the Hyuuga, tapping a kunai menacingly underneath the Hyuuga’s eye socket, “The Land of Fire is our home, the Uchiha will always have standing here. You have made an enemy here Hyuuga.” 

Hisoka snarled, a messy desperate expression, “You Uchiha dogs are too lowly even to be considered as an enemy for the Hyuuga, you are a shame to shinobi.” 

Madara’s eyes flashed, grip tightening on his enemy’s arm with white knuckles, “You ought to be careful how you address my clan, Hyuuga . I quite literally hold your life in my hands. Answer the damn question.” 

Hisoka’s mouth twisted tightly, tendons in his neck bulging in indignation, “I did what was best for my clan and my nation. The daimyo and his advisor want order among the ninja clans.” 

Izuna scoffed, “And they offered the Hyuuga a place at the top of this order I imagine.” 

Hisoka said nothing, pale eyes simply glaring up at them.

“The civilians have never held power over us before,” Kakashi pointed out, “What made you think they could now?” 

The Hyuuga turned his pupilless eyes to Kakashi, “They have the power now, power, unlike anything I’ve seen.”

Kakashi felt his chest tighten slightly, “The advisor, Tobi I presume.” 

Hisoka made a noise of affirmation.

Izuna stilled, still holding his kunai with a closed fist.

“What does he want?” Kakashi asked, ignoring the weirdness of the Uchiha beside him in hopes of finding out what the Uchiha of his past wanted.

Hisoka gave the best shrug he could give in his current position, wincing as the motion pulled the arm Madara had clasped behind him, “He claimed he wanted peace. Peace and order.” 

Madara scowled, “Invading a peaceful village isn’t exactly an action of peace, is it?” 

“It is one of order ,” Hisoka replied, shifting slightly against the ground, “The Uchiha and Senju have no place in our order.” 

Izuna rose to his feet, tossing his kunai into the air and catching it by the blade, “No place huh.” 

His tone was as hard and sharp as his blade, cutting through the weak crackling of the table fire drifting through the broken window with ease. Kakashi caught a glimpse of something dark in the Uchiha’s eyes that had him shifting forward to- 

A flash of steel followed by a choked croak from the Hyuuga within a millisecond rendered his attempted movement meaningless. Izuna had flung his kunai deep into the exposed flesh of the Hyuuga’s neck, a cold sneer on his face hiding any other emotion that the younger Uchiha might have been feeling.

“Izuna!” Madara exclaimed, dropping the Hyuuga’s now limp arm in a flash, eyes widening in surprise, “What the hell!” 

Izuna sniffed, “He was insulting our clan, I was tired of it.” 

Kakashi tapped a finger on his forearm, a bit dejected that he hadn’t managed to stop Izuna in time, “He still probably had information for us, he was useful.”

Madara recovered a bit of his composure, fixing his brother with a disapproving glare, “He’s right, there’s still too much we don’t know about their plans. You shouldn’t have done that.” 

Izuna’s eyes widened, spitting his words out with indignation, “He was insulting you, brother! I was defending the honour of our clan!”

Madara sighed, “I know, but he was all we had. We’ll have to find one of the other leaders now to find out more.” 

Kakashi glanced behind him, where the table was still burning in the meeting room, “There may be some papers or orders left behind, we should look around a bit.”

Madara looked conflicted, “We’re supposed to go assist with the main fight, but we were also supposed to learn a little more about their plans.”

Izuna scowled and bent to retrieve his kunai, pulling it out with a rush of fresh blood that seeped through the delicate silk that made up the Hyuuga’s garments, “This fool wasn’t going to tell us anything anyway, he’s a foot soldier, a hired sword.” 

Madara stepped away from the Hyuuga with a sigh, “That may be, but he’s all we had .” 

Izuna stood with a hmpf and walked back into the meeting room, stepping carefully through the shattered window, “Then we go find more, the Inuzuka and Aburame must have some leadership here, presumably at the main battle. We’ll go there and find out what they know.” 

Madara nodded, wiping a splatter of blood off his gauntlet, “Take the majority of our force, leave a few to guard the building. Hatake and I will search for any information here before joining you.” 

Izuna glanced between the two of them with a disgruntled frown pulling at his lips, “Fine. Don’t take too long or I may not be able to still my blade in time.” 

The younger Uchiha strode across the room and ducked out of the room without a glance, leaving Kakashi and Madara standing in the gently crackling embers of what remained of the meeting room. 

Madara rubbed the back of his head, sending a bit of his hair sticking out in a way that Kakashi found endlessly endearing, “There’s a few cabinets in here, I want to look through them and see if there’s anything worth saving, want to check through the rooms one floor down? That’s where most of the offices are if I remember correctly.”  

“Sounds good Madara-chan,” He paused for a moment, “Hold still for a moment.” 

He leaned forward and carefully wiped a small splatter of blood off Madara’s cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, received with a few rapid blinks and a rising flush from the Uchiha. 

“You-” Madara’s brow wrinkled, even as his mouth twitched upwards, “You really pick your times don’t you.” 

Kakashi grinned behind his mask, taking the opportunity to trace along Madara’s cheekbone up to his hairline, “You got something else; really missed a lot of spots.” 

Madara’s eyes stopped spinning, the contrast of the pinwheel making it easy to see his pupils were nearly blown, “Spots I’m sure you’ve gotten.” 

“Mm, not all of them,” Kakashi hummed, thumbing over the other man’s lips with a deliberate stroke.

They were soft, a discovery that made liquid heat pool in his stomach. Something that made him realise that perhaps Madara’s lips weren’t a safe topic of thought until that idea could be... properly explored. 

He cleared his throat and pretended not to notice when Madara followed after his hand for a split second when he pulled it away, “Got it.” 

“Huh?” Madara questioned rather inelegantly, attention focused somewhere south of Kakashi’s eyes. 

“The spot,” He repeated, “All gone.” 

The violent flush from before made its return, the Uchiha seeming to remember where they were all at once and took a few hurried steps backwards, “Ah, right, the cabinets. Right, uh, give me a shout if there’s any more enemies.” 

Kakashi ducked out into the hallway, glancing over his shoulder to see Madara touch his lip with his own thumb. 

His pride preened a bit, seems he still had it.

The rooms downstairs were simple offices, small rooms with two desks in them each. Entering the first office on the floor, he rifled through one of the desks. He didn’t find much, only documents on the water pipes that Tobirama was planning before they were driven out and a manifest of the exact number of turnips in storehouse five. 

Absolutely riveting .

He crossed the room to the other desk, shivering slightly as he walked past the open window. The predawn chill still hung in the village, a sign that colder weather was well on its way. This desk didn’t have much more of note, though Kakashi did find what appeared to be a memo to the capital, mentioning a lack of weapons. He tucked it into his pants pocket, thinking it could be useful. 

A shiver went down his spine again, this time of something other than the early morning chill. It was chakra that inched its way across Kakashi’s neck this time, making his shoulders stiffen and his stomach drop. 

This chakra was both familiar and foreign. 

Something he recognised from long ago and from the last time he was in the village. 

“I told you I’d be seeing you around Kakashi-teme.” 

Kakashi felt his breath stutter in his throat as he spun around, hand spasming in how tight his grip was around his blade. 

Obito stood in the windowsill, orange mask pushed up holding his hair back from his face, exposing deep pitted scarring on half of his face. He was smiling, or rather he was moving his mouth into the shape of a smile, but Kakashi couldn't in good conscience call it a smile with how cold his old teammate's eyes were.

And cold they were. So frigid Kakashi could almost feel them burning, like taking an ice cube and holding it against his skin till it hurt.

“Obito,” His voice was steadier than it was the last time, though he could still feel his heart beating a harsh rhythm against his rib cage.

“Somehow we always find our way back home, don’t we,” Obito hummed thoughtfully, rubbing a hand thoughtfully up the windowsill he sat perched in, “and yet it never welcomes us the way we expect.” 

Kakashi adjusted his stance, lowering his blade with tight muscles and making sure to put the wall solidly at his back, “What do you want? Why are you doing this? Why are we here ?”

Obito’s mouth tugged up a little further, the scarred side slightly less than the other, “Why does a river flow? Why is the sky blue? We are just listing questions we won’t get the answers to, right?”  

Kakashi narrowed his eyes, stolen one spinning slowly back at its original owner, “How are you alive ?”

“I suppose I ought to give you something shouldn't I, wouldn't want your head to explode. Not yet anyway. It’s all thanks to your new best friend of course, Uchiha Madara,” Obito giggled manically for a moment before freezing and widening his eyes dramatically, “Or perhaps more than a friend, I didn’t know you swung that way, old pal, perhaps I should have thrown my glove in when I had the chance!”

The jounin grit his teeth at the sickeningly fake voice Obito was using, it was both his old teammate and not . Something had gone horribly wrong he realised, eyes tracing the deep scarring on his face. 

Obito’s face fell, eyes widening and mouth drooping to badly imitate a puppy, “Or am I not handsome enough for you, I know my face may have changed a bit, but I can assure you it’s still the same me!” 

“You’re not Obito.” Kakashi’s voice came out steady, a fact he was very grateful for, “You are not the same person I called my friend.” 

“You wound me Kakashi! I gave you such a grand gift too, didn’t I?” Obito clutched at his chest dramatically before pausing to cackle loudly, “Literally I, because I gave you an eye! Hah!” 

A cold shudder ran down his back, like someone trickling ice water into his collar, it was Obito’s terrible humour, but it just wasn’t Obito saying it. 

It couldn’t be. 

It was like someone had taken his very own tanto and stabbed him with it, the sense of wrongness in this situation was almost too much for him to take. 

“What do you want Obito.” He repeated, a hint of desperation colouring his tone.  

Obito blew a loud raspberry, cold cold eyes a sharp contrast to the man’s playful tone, “You’re still absolutely no fun Kakashi-teme, I thought you might have grown out of it by now.”

Kakashi shifted, hand tightening again on the hilt of his weapon as he sensed Obito’s mood shift. 

“I went through a lot of plans you know, different ways to try and fix the issues that plague our world. There’s just so much wrong with it.” Obito continued, frown playing on his lips, “But do you know what the common denominator was to pretty much every issue?” 

He didn’t really want to answer, but when Obito stayed quiet and simply raised an eyebrow, Kakashi realised he was waiting for a response, “I’m not sure.” 

Obito shook his head, a strange mixture of frustration and amusement playing on his face, “Come on Kakashi, you’re a genius, surely you can put two and two together? What started the war that tore us apart? What drove your father to suicide? What decided the Uchiha had to die?

Kakashi again said nothing, simply staring at the man whose eye was mirrored in his own face. 

Obito laughed again, cold peals of laughter that seemed to hang in the air, “Konoha, Kakashi, Konoha is the problem. It’s always been Konoha !” 

Notes:

sometimes your summer goes well, and then others Easyjet cancels your flight home not once- but twice!
fun times

anyways, heres pt 1 of what i''ve been calling big scary fight scene in my drafts, writing fighting is pretty new and scary for me so I hope it was both clear and entertaining!

Obito is back! he's never far, just lurking. I kinda like the idea of him spying on them this whole time being salty that he couldn’t interfere yet. Man's got a plan and he aint gonna mess it up. It's a horrible terrible plan for the future of Konoha mind you, but i mean in Obito's view that's kinda the point.
_____

Everyone except Madara: *Stealth mission mode*
Madara: KNOCK KNOCK BITCHES IM BACK

Hisoka: You will never defeat me
One angry Uchiha with anger issues: You wanna bet?

Chapter 25: In which a few threads begin to unravel

Notes:

👀👀

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The first thing Madara noticed was a trickle of unease down his spine.

This wasn't necessarily a bad thing. After all, they had just murdered the head of the Hyuuga clan and happened to be in the middle of invading the very village that they built. Unease could just be a slight paranoia masquerading as something more acceptable to his psyche.

Madara pushed aside his doubts and focused on sorting through the burnt papers left on the meeting table. He was uncertain how much help the scraps of parchment with phrases like 'start the-' and 'area around the to-' would be, but he still collected them and put them in his pocket along with any other legible bits. He hoped that maybe the Senju would have better luck in understanding it.

The second thing Madara noticed was a muffled laugh coming from below him. Rationally it must be Kakashi, having found an embarrassing note or a grocery list that included some strange food. 

But Madara wasn't sure it sounded like the silver-haired nin. He couldn't say he had actually heard Kakashi laugh that much, but he couldn't imagine the man sounding quite so... cold. 

He paused in his sorting. Perhaps he should go check on him; maybe a stray Hyuuga had slipped through their advance. Not that he didn't think Kakashi could handle himself. He'd seen enough of his fighting to know better than that. But the part of him that still itched with unease urged him to go down. Better safe than sorry.

Only when he noticed the third thing did he fully realise something was wrong. The cold chill that crept up his back reeked of killing intent, standing the hairs on his neck on end and bringing gooseflesh crawling up his arms. 

Killing intent was never just lingering paranoia or related to a grocery list. 

He slid his blade from its sheath and crept towards the muffled sound of voices coming from one of the doors.

"So you see why I have to do this, don't you, Kakashi? I'm trying to save our future." 

Madara's grip grew white-knuckled; that was the voice of his rogue Uchiha relative. The one Kakashi had a history with. 

The one that kidnapped his brother

He shouldered open the door in a burst of speed, holding his blade at an angle in front of him. " I thought I heard someone sneaking around." 

The daimyo's advisor, Tobi or Obito or whatever he wanted to call himself, smiled from his position perched in the window, not bothering to take his eyes off of where he seemed to be locked in a staring contest with Kakashi, "Ah, you're late Madara-sama, not that I expected more of this you to be honest." 

Kakashi faced him, standing tall and wound tight like a spring, "You should leave Madara. This is my problem to solve." 

Angry irritation scratched at Madara's chest, "What the fuck are you on about Hatake? I'm not gonna leave ." 

Tobi laughed loudly, an oddly bell-like sound that seemed out of place with the man's whole demeanour, "How is dear Izuna-kun? I hope he's alright, I really didn't mean to keep him from you for that long. Honestly, I thought you would come get him sooner, but I suppose I really need to stop overestimating you." 

"Take my brother's name out of your traitorous mouth," Madara hissed, hand tightening around the hilt of his blade until the edges pressed painfully into the flesh of his palm.

Kakashi glanced sideways, breaking eye contact with Tobi for a brief moment to try to catch Madara's furious gaze. "Seriously, Madara, I think you should leave." 

Madara turned his glare on the silver-haired nin, each word pushed out with force, "Now's not the time to pull a solo act, idiot." 

Tobi slouched slightly in the frame, leaning heavily against the wooden panels,  "This is adorable. You even have pet names ."

Madara took a moment to observe the other Uchiha. Tobi had a pout twisting his lips, and the expression pulled at the scars on half of his face in a way that couldn't have been comfortable. His eyes were dark black pits, the colour of ink, with the pupil indistinguishable from the iris. His eyes seemed entirely hollow, except for the glint of malice that caught the light beginning to stream in from behind him. His fingers were twitching against the window frame, hands gouging out bits of wood haphazardly with nails that, while not filed to a point, still cut through Hashirama's construction like butter.

Madara wondered if his eyes ever looked like that. They were the same shade, after all, and even concealed the same weapons. 

"You have a lot of gall to show your face here again," Madara bit out, "You took my brother . For that, your guts will decorate my walls."

Tobi laughed again, "How are you so different and so similar? Ah, Madara-sama, you are full of surprises, aren't you." 

The masked man was speaking in riddles again. Everything out of his mouth hurt Madara's head and made his mind work overtime to try and decipher his meanings. 

He wasn't succeeding.

" Madara ." Kakashi's voice was sharper now, urgency colouring his tone. "Go check on the others. He could have brought help. I can handle him." 

"You're trying to get rid of him." Tobi paused, raising his unscarred eyebrow at Kakashi, "You didn't tell him." 

"No." Kakashi's response came in a carefully even tone that held warning at its edges.

Tobi's face lit up, manic joy dripping into his eyes, "You make it too easy , Kakashi! It's like you're not even trying to get yourself home. How is the man supposed to help you if you don't tell him the truth!" 

Their enemy leaned forward, limbs held eerily still, "Do you want to know the truth, Madara-sama? I'll tell you. I will. If just for old-time's sake. Just say the word." 

Madara shivered, chills running up his arms from the overwhelming killing intent pouring off both shinobi.

He didn't know how to respond. 

He couldn't trust a word of what Tobi said, but Kakashi wasn't exactly prone to truthfulness either. Perhaps there would be a kernel of truth in what he had to say?

Tobi blew a loud raspberry, breaking the spiral of indecision, "Whoops! Too late. There's your chance gone, Madara-sama. Sorry, you snooze you lose." 

"You didn't let me answer!" He sputtered, indignant at the rogue Uchiha's fickle nature.

Kakashi took a small step towards the window, making Tobi's attention whip towards him again, "Why are you here, in this building, right now." 

Tobi shrugged, shoulder knocking into the window frame carelessly, "Just wanted to say hi. Catch up a bit with my oldest friend, or youngest friend? Still haven't worked that one out yet." 

Madara's head still hurt; he wasn't used to an enemy that just wanted to talk aside from Hashirama, and even at his worst, he had never wanted to gut the Senju quite this badly. Tobi spoke in circles. Circles that twisted into an impossible shape that made it impossible to tell it was even a circle to begin with. 

Kakashi's face was twisted into a grimace, eyes darting between Tobi and Madara, "You don't want to kill us so-" 

Tobi laughed, high and clear, "Who says I don't want to kill you, Bakashi? Maybe I just don't want to kill you yet ." 

Madara shook his head slightly, clearing away some of the distracting trains of thought, "Well, I certainly want to kill you, and if you don't get out right now, then I will very much satisfy that craving of mine." 

Tobi pouted, scarred lips pursing, "So violent, Madara-sama, after I just came to say hi..." 

"What do you want? Why am I here." Kakashi bit out again, taking another half step towards the window.

"Goodness, Kakashi, you sound like a broken record," Tobi sighed loudly before his eyes widened, "Oh, that doesn't make sense yet, does it? I suppose I should say like a broken flute? Broken drum?" 

Madara's head hurt again.

"Oh well, I really should get going, I didn't want to leave town without seeing your pretty little faces though, toodles!" Tobi twiddled his fingers and let go of the window frame with his other hand, letting himself fall backwards out of the window carelessly. 

Madara bolted forward, pausing just a moment to track Tobi's fall to the ground before throwing himself out of the window with a grunt.

Dammit. 

No answers, just more questions and a display that was clearly meant to stall them. 

He hit the ground firmly, absorbing the impact by sinking into a squat and springing forward after the dark figure that took off through the village before him. If Tobi wanted a foot chase, then Madara would deliver. 

"Madara!" a voice calling out, followed by another thump in the dirt behind him, told him Kakashi had followed him down from the tower. "Go find the others. Let me handle this." 

Madara vaulted over an abandoned hand cart and called back to the shinobi following him, "Fuck off, Hatake, this isn't your problem alone to solve. It affects all of us." 

Silver hair flashed in the early dawn as Kakashi dashed up alongside him, "Madara, please ."  

He faltered slightly, almost tripping over a loose paving stone. Kakashi was begging him. 

If it was about anything, even slightly less important, Madara might have done exactly as he said and asked just to hear Kakashi talk to him in that tone again. 

But it was that important. 

And Kakashi was wrong . It wasn't his problem to deal with his obviously insane ex-friend. The enemy was a Uchiha, which meant that even if Madara had never seen the man before in his life, it was his responsibility as clan leader to deal with it. 

Beyond that, the man had kidnapped his brother and wrought havoc on his home. He damn well hoped he would have a part to play in taking him down. 

A small part of him, the part that still savoured the drape of the Uchiha colours across Kakashi's shoulders, also wanted to do this for him. Kakashi wasn't protecting him by telling him to leave; he was preventing Madara from protecting him , from helping him and preventing that stricken look from taking over his face again. 

Uchiha were loyal, sometimes to a fault. Somehow, and gods knew why, Kakashi had gained that loyalty from him. Madara wasn't going to let him do this alone. 

And Kakashi was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

"Fuck that," Madara tried to grin as he said it, but he feared it turned out more of a baring of teeth, "Get over yourself. It's not just about you anymore." 

Ahead of them, Tobi rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. When they turned the building after him, he was nowhere to be seen. 

Skidding to a halt with a curse, Kakashi quickly turned to Madara, "Madara, it's more complicated than you think. You can't-" 

Madara cut him off, "I don't care how you try to justify it. You're not getting rid of me." 

Kakashi blinked at him, something strangely vulnerable in his eyes, "I guess I'm not, am I?" 

"Nope, "Madara grinned, a font of buoyant bubbles rising in his chest despite the grim situation.

Kakashi looked at him for a long moment, "You... I've never met anyone like you." 

"I should hope not. I am rather exceptional." 

Kakashi swallowed, adam's apple bobbing beneath his mask, "I'm sorry."  

Madara tilted his head, "For what?"

"All of this." 

It hurt him a little bit, the way the words seemed to rasp out of Kakashi's throat.

Madara rested a hand on the other man's shoulder, on top of the cloak he'd gifted him, "You're blaming yourself for the actions of another. Do you know what my father called that?" 

Kakashi raised a brow in question. 

Madara let his lips stretch into a wistful smile, "Idiocy of the highest degree."  

"He seems like a delightful man, your father," Kakashi answered dryly. 

Madara chuckled, "Of all the words to describe him, that may be the least often used. Though the advice stands. There's no use in it. You aren't responsible for anyone's actions but your own." 

Kakashi's gaze was weighty as he considered Madara, "What if your actions created a monster?" 

Ah. There was something there, in their shared history that he was missing. Madara knew that, but it was big, wasn't it? Something so big that Kakashi could blame himself for all of the actions of the other.

Or at least something that Kakashi thought was big enough to do so.

Kakashi laughed into the pause Madara left, a huffing breath that didn't hold any humour, "We should catch up to my monster before he creates more." 

Madara licked his lips, "Hatake, you didn't cause this." 

Kakashi gave a slightly shaky nod and jerked his head towards the distant sounds, ignoring Madara, "Shall we? He was trying to stall us for a reason, likely leading on this goose chase for nothing too. There must be a reason why." 

Madara let his hand fall off Kakashi's shoulder, "OK. But we're talking about this later." 

Kakashi started forward, throwing a teasing look over his shoulder, "Since when were you one to want to talk it out?" 

Madara leapt after him, shaking his head, "Since I met a superbly irritating shinobi who somehow likes it even less than me."

They took off in easy bounds, picking their way through familiar streets towards the edge of town where the bulk of the fighting was taking place. It was hopefully where Izuna and the Senju had ended up as well.

As they passed through their home, it was easy to spot the signs of who had been staying there. At least in the areas that weren't burned rubble. There were haphazard flags with clan sigils tossed over fences and a few scattered dog toys underfoot. 

It disgusted him. 

His discomfort at the interaction with Tobi, his frustration with feeling so helpless in a situation so far out of his control, and this disgust all twisted together in his gut. 

How dare these interlopers come into his home and try and make it their own. How dare they take what was his just cause the daimyo and some psycho told them to. 

The Hyuuga had mentioned the future order of things. 

But Madara would ensure that these traitors would never have a place in the order he and the Senju created.

The clashes and yells grew closer until they found themselves quite quickly and solidly amidst the fighting. Senju, Uchiha, Nara, Akimichi, and Yamanaka against Hyuuga, Aburame, and Inuzuka. It was a battle on a scale Madara didn't think he'd ever quite seen. 

It was brutal. Justus flashed alongside blades, dogs howled and whimpered, and insects buzzed overhead, but what Madara noticed above all else was the sheer destruction that had been wrought. 

This was the outskirts of the village, yes, but nothing was left—just embers and torn-up dirt where structures had stood. Trees were uprooted and lay crushing bodies underneath. Carefully planned paths were covered in debris, and the smells of blood and sweat permeated the air, not a trace of the refreshing forest breeze he had found so comforting. 

It broke his heart. 

It shouldn't have come to this. 

He caught himself against the sheltered roots of a giant overturned tree, fighting the nausea rising in his throat. 

"Are you OK?" 

Kakashi comes to a halt next to him, eyes carefully blank. He's tense; Madara can see that in the way the other shinobi holds his shoulders high and clutches a root in a white-knuckled hand. 

"I'm fine," Madara replied, swallowing around the lump in his throat, "You'd think I'd be used to this by now." 

"You never get used to it. War is a stain on the mind that gets refreshed every time you see it," Kakashi paused momentarily, looking away from the battle for a brief moment to meet his eyes, "I'm sorry."

Madara shook his head, "Apologising again, Hatake, don't make me repeat myself . "

Kakashi was silent for a moment, his throat bobbing beneath his mask. Behind him, Madara sees a light-haired kunoichi go flying, hit the ground, and not get back up.

"It's not the fighting," Madara continued, voice tense and tight, "I've seen my fair share of death. It's that this was supposed to be an end to that. It was meant to be a place of peace.” 

Kakashi set a steadying hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly, "This place will survive this, and so will you." 

Madara couldn't remember the last time someone had comforted him. He was the oldest sibling, and his father wasn't exactly the reassuring type. He knew Izuna had his back through the best and worst of it all, but they weren't exactly the type to spell it out for the other. 

It felt nice. 

He wasn't sure if that was quite the right word for the hazy warmth that rose behind his sternum, or the sudden urge to smother himself in the other shinobis' chest and never let go. 

But for now, it was close enough. 

The moment lingered for a moment, two, and then Kakashi redrew his hand. It took an embarrassing amount of effort for Madara to not chase the warmth of his hand.

And then they stepped back into the chaos. Finding the Senju wasn't hard; all they had to do was find the giant trees sprouting out of nothing. Hashirama was nothing if not consistent. 

"Madara!" his friend called, offering a brilliant smile despite dripping blood down his face from a cut by his temple. "Success, I take it?" 

He made a slight noise in the back of his throat, "To an extent, did Izuna not tell you?" 

Tobirama skidded to a halt beside him, scowl twisting his face, "He's not with you?" 

Madara blinked, "No. He went with the rest of our force to assist you while Hatake and I searched the tower." 

He didn't like the direction his mind immediately turned, to oh gods, what if Tobi took his brother again. So he swallowed it. 

Kakashi glanced around, scanning the battlefield with mismatched eyes, "Tobirama, can you sense him?" 

The younger Senju grimaced, "Too much chakra being used at once. It'd be hard to pinpoint him right now." 

Brilliant red hair flashed in front of him as Mito dashed by, sealing tags clenched in her fists, "Less talking, more fighting boys, Shikara says we have them on the back foot." 

Madara took a deep breath. His rational mind told him that Izuna was fine. His brother was one of the most skilled shinobi he knew, backed up by a not small number of his clan shinobi. The battlefield was wide, and he was probably fighting in a corner of it away from the Senju. 

He was fine. 

Madara would know if he wasn't.

And Tobi had fled. He couldn't have gone after his brother again. 

(But Tobi could vanish and reappear, Madara had seen it, what if—)

No. Izuna was fine. Madara had his own fight to worry about it.

"Alright," He said, cracking his knuckles, "let's get this over with."

And so they fought. 

He was still not entirely used to fighting on the same side as the Senjo, but it was getting easier. Having fought against Hashirama for so many years, he knew the other man's fighting style inside and out, and working at his side was less learning something new and more slipping into something he'd always known. 

It was easy to flip over a darting branch and slash through the defences of an Abrurame kunoichi before darting back behind the whipping foliage. To let Hashirama fight at his back, knowing that the Senju would protect him as one of his clan members would. Tobirama and Mito were blurs of white and red, moving around them with speed and accuracy, each a force of nature as they wielded both steel and the elements in a symphony of violence.

Kakashi, too, fit into the battle rhythm like a puzzle piece Madara hadn't known was missing. The shinobi was everywhere he needed to be all at once, silver hair flashing in the sunrise as he spun, dashed, and leapt with starling agility between enemies.

Madara was good at this, and he banished his fears and worries as best he could and basked in the stretch of a good fight. A laugh tore from his throat as he executed a particularly impressive spin, kicking out from a flip and sending a startled Inuzuka shinobi crashing into his snarling canine companion. 

The enemy was on the back foot before they had arrived, and the added firepower soon had their enemies fleeing into the trees. 

Madara sent one of his largest fireball Justus sailing after the fleeing nin with a rude hand gesture he would never admit to making. 

"Madara," Hashirama admonished with a grin, "You don't want to set the forest alight, do you?" 

"A bit late for that," Tobirama snorts, though a tiny hint of a smile of his own is creeping onto his face. 

Madara shrugs, eyeing the Senju with a small smirk, "It's nothing we can't repair. We have the greatest Mokuton user ever to live with us, don't we?" 

Hashirama went a little bug-eyed, "Did everyone hear that? Did everyone just hear that Madara complimented me?" 

"Oh certainly," drawled Mito, draping an arm over Hashirama's suddenly very stiff shoulder, "I believe that is a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, might want to memorise it."  

Madara rolled his eyes, "If you don't stop you'll suddenly find much more than the forest on fire." 

Hashirama's wide smile grew strained, "Well, unfortunately, I think that's already true." 

Madara scanned the battlefield, feeling some of the battle fever slipping from his veins. Deep, pitted terrain was everywhere; the flaming skeletons of buildings were collapsing into charred piles of embers, and there were more still bodies littering the ground than he wanted to count. The sun had risen over the horizon by now, and the cool tones of morning light spilt onto the battlefield. It was almost idyllic if you could ignore the crackling of flames or groans of the wounded.

The small grin slipped slowly off his face, and the roar in his blood died down to a whisper. 

Mito grimaced, "So this is war." 

Tobirama nodded grimly, eyes darting over the wreckage but not saying a word. 

Madara let out a deep sigh. For all of his efforts to work towards peace, at the end of the day, he would still be cataloguing which of his clan members wouldn't be making it back to their families. 

He took in the determined looks of his companions and realised with a start that this wouldn't be like all the other times.

This time, he wouldn't have to do it alone. 

He had friends .

He had his brother. 

And he had Kakashi. 

They had won . They had taken back their home from powerful forces and were in a stronger position than ever. 

The irony of needing this extreme violence to defend peace wasn't lost on him, but he supposed they were still shinobi after all. It wouldn't make sense for peace to be anything less hard-won. 

But they had done it. For now. 

He glanced around for Kakashi, wanting to share the satisfaction of a battle well won. But the other nin was nowhere to be seen.

Madara scanned the area around them a little more carefully, "Where's Hatake?" 

"He was just here," Tobirama frowned, "But I can't sense him anymore." 

Alarm rose in Madara's chest like a rocket, "What do you mean you can't sense him? Where did he go?" 

Tobirama shut his eyes, "I- There's a lot of chakra in the air, I think he's still around here somewhere, just not here." 

"That's real helpful," Madara growled, spitting a few sparks, "What about Izuna?" 

Hashirama sent him a reproachful glance, "Tobi is trying his best. It's been a chaotic morning and an even more chaotic few weeks." 

Madara clenched and unclenched his fists; his brother wasn't here, and Kakashi wasn't here. He was getting really, really tired of people disappearing on him. 

Mito let out a small sound, pointing towards the village. "Perhaps you might want to check over there?" 

Madara spun and stared as a large cloud of smoke ballooned upwards from a few rows of houses into the village proper, removed from the main battlefield in the area of forest border they were in now. 

He was off like a shot, ignoring the Senju calling his name behind him. He was so fucking tired of being left in the dark.

He bounded through the wreckage, seeing shinobi of all five clans present pulling others to their feet and darting past a slightly bloodstained but whole Nara Shikara, who greeted him with a small nod as he flew past. 

He pushed faster, infusing chakra into his steps to send him up and over obstacles so quickly that the wind bit at his cheeks. In a few blinks, he found himself skidding to a halt atop a flat-topped house in front of the billowing smoke, staring at the sight before him. 

He wanted to open with a big threat or perhaps a guttural growl, but instead, what tore out of his throat was a strangled yelp of surprise. 

Kakashi stood, lighting crackling in his hands, directly across from Izuna, whose eyes were spinning menacingly. Tobi stood off to the side, slightly behind his brother, arms crossed smugly across his chest.

"Madara!" Izuna sounded startled, and his eyes widened slightly, "I-" 

"No need to stop on his account, Izuna," Kakashi drawled, tone cool and level, "Keep saying what you were telling me. What was it about how the future of your clan was with your new pal and not the Senju?" 

"Izuna?" Madara's question was quiet; he didn't understand.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Hatake," his brother spat. "That's not what I said. I don't trust the bastard, but I know what this village will do to my brother and clan."

"Ouch," came Tobi's mild response, "And here I thought this was a passionate display of familial love." 

Izuna sent a dirty look over his shoulder, "I don't appreciate being tortured and manipulated, asshole." 

"Why are you protecting him?" Madara bit out, eyes darting between Kakashi and his brother. Gods, Kakashi still had lightning cupped in his hands. What had happened?

Izuna's throat bobbed as he swallowed, "Madara, I promise I can explain, you just need to listen—" 

"He was speaking with him when I got here," Kakashi cut in, "I saw Obito watching the battle, and when I got here, your brother was watching with him." 

Setting aside the irritation that arose at the information that Kakashi had gone after the man that Madara had thought they had agreed wasn't going to be a solo project, some deeper feeling started to well up in him. 

"Izuna?" He questioned again, voice brittle in a way that he didn't like. 

There was no way. 

He didn't believe it. 

Kakashi must have been seeing things wrong. His brother wouldn't betray him. That wasn't who he was, or who they were to each other. 

An icy numbness spread from behind his breastbone, freezing him in place as he fought to process what was happening. 

Little flashes of inconsistencies since they had picked him up from the capital raced through his brain, the brief flares of intense hostility towards the Senjus, the wariness around Kakashi, and the killing of the Hyuuga clan head so suddenly. And how easy breaking him out had been. 

Almost as if Tobi hadn't even been trying to keep him. 

"Madara," Izuna's brow was furrowed, and his mouth was a pained grimace, "Just listen to me—"

"Tell me it's a lie," Madara said, pleading, "Tell me it's a lie, and I'll believe you. Tell me you're not working with him." 

"It's more complicated than that, there are things you don't know—" 

Madara let out a hysterical bark of laughter, "So people keep telling me." 

"I'm not working with him," Izuna snapped, jerking his hand towards the rouge Uchiha, "I'm using him. If I want to protect my clan, to protect you , then I need all the information I can." 

Tobi sniffed, "That's not very nice of you, Izuna-kun. Here, I thought I'd gained your loyalty." 

Izuna scoffed, "You're an Uchiha, you should know better than anyone that my loyalty is to my clan, my family, before any one person." 

"Why didn't you say something then?" Kakashi asked cooly, "Why do his bidding and sneak around to feed him our information?"

Madara took a step forward, "Izuna, explain." 

His brother's swirling eyes stared back at him, "Madara, I haven't given him any information he didn't already know. I know how this looks, but—"

"So you are working with him," he bit out, clenching his hands into fists so they wouldn't shake. 

"Stop interrupting me! You're hearing the words I'm saying, but you're not listening ," Izuna spit out, sudden anger twisting his face, "You never listen to me!" 

Madara let out an incredulous sound, "Izuna, all I do is listen to you—" 

"No." Izuna snarled, "You don't really. You hear what I say and then decide your opinion was right all along, and then you do it. And then you get angry and mope when things don't go how you want them." 

" I mope! Izuna, you didn't leave the house the entire time we were here!" 

"Because you forced me to live with the people that killed our siblings !" 

Madara spat sparks down onto the roof. 

How dare he.  

Everything Madara did was for his family. For his siblings. For Izuna.

Tobi raised a hand, waving it like a troublesome child in a classroom, "Can I butt in? I get this is some heavy family drama but I really do need to be going now." 

"Oh, you're not going anywhere," Madara spat, bitter fury tinging his voice, "Not now, not after everything." 

"You know, you're becoming an annoyance, Madara-sama," Tobi's mouth twitched downwards, "I've been more than generous towards you and yours, but I don't have to be." 

Madara spat a small tongue of flame as a response, feeling the heat radiate onto his face. 

"I doubt you would act this way if you knew the truth your brother knows. That Bakashi knows." Tobi taunted, stepping from behind his brother and striding a few steps closer.  

If one more person talked about something that everyone else knew that Madara didn't, he was going to lose it.

Kakashi twitched, an aborted movement that he seemingly couldn't control, "Obito-" 

"Hatake Kakashi is like me, you know," Tobi's tone dropped from the false high pitch he had been affecting before, "We're one and the same. What you've seen me do, I can guarantee he's done worse. And it's all this place at fault for it. This place is a cancer , a corrupt existence that will lead to the destruction of your clan. And you'll only have yourself to blame." 

"You can't possibly know that!" Madara snarled, "You're a stranger from somewhere far away, and you know nothing of me and my clan. How dare you come here and cause all of this chaos for me and my clan? What reason do you even have to?" 

Tobi laughed, a surprised bark escaping him, "Oh, the irony! What reasons do I need Madara-sama? Maybe I just like to see you struggle with the knowledge that you’ll never see your dreams come to fruition." 

"I don't know you," Madara spit. 

"But I know you." Tobi's smirk is cruel, "I know you, Madara-sama, and it really is a joy to see you flounder." 

"The Senju are on their way," Izuna said, taking a few steps toward the roof's edge and glancing over the battlefield. 

Tobi pouted, "Ruining my fun yet again, but I'll see you again soon." 

Kakashi took a half step forward, "Obito-" 

"Gods, Bakashi, take a hint, I don't want to talk to you right now," Tobi rolled his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and promptly vanished, leaving not even a trace behind.

He was gone. Again. 

Madara yelled loudly and released large plumes of flame from his hands, scorching the ground around him. 

He was tired, angry, and deeply upset. And the bastard had gotten away again. 

Kakashi took a tentative step towards him, eyes darting to where Izuna stood at the edge of the roof, gazing outwards. 

"I- I don't understand, Hatake," Madara stuttered, snarled, and spit out the words, his emotions turning all the things he wanted to say into mush in his mouth. 

Kakashi sighed, reaching out to brush a bit of ash off Madara's shoulder, his eyes not meeting his, "I know you don't, Madara." 

Madara's hand darted up before Kakashi could pull away, circling the other's wrist and holding him in place, "Then tell me. Please, tell me."

It hurt his pride to beg like this, like pressing on a bruise. 

Kakashi's eyes snapped up to his, gray and red meeting his sharingan fully, "I want to tell you, I do. But it's not that simple." 

"Why not?" 

Kakashi's wrist twitched in his grip, and the other man said nothing.

Madara's mouth dipped, and he squeezed the wrist in his grasp a little tighter, "Hatake, my entire world has changed multiple times in the last few months. How much more change will happen if you just talk to me? And I'm getting really tired of people hiding things from me." 

Kakashi tilted his head, his eyes searching for a moment. "You are, aren't you?" 

Madara held his gaze for another moment before sighing and dropping his wrist, "Patience isn't my strong suit, and I'm trying, but if you really want us to be victorious here, you might consider letting us work with all the information. It feels like I'm playing a game where everyone can see my hand, but I can't even see the cards being played." 

Kakashi stared at him for another moment, glancing behind him towards where Izuna lingered, before seeming to make a decision, "Talk to your brother. Then come find me. I owe you a story."

Madara blinked, "Are you sure?" 

Kakashi let out a harsh bark of laughter, eyes flickering again over to Izuna, "No. Of course not. But I don't think I have much of a choice at this point."

Madara considered him for another moment, "You always have a choice, idiot." 

Kakashi's eyes crinkled into a smile, though he could not hide the way his body was tense as a wire. "Just promise you'll come find me after your talk, Madara-chan." 

It was easy to nod, easy to gaze after him as he loped away with effortless grace, easy to hope that answers were close at hand. He felt as if he had been running through a maze this whole time, and the final corner was almost within reach.

He took a deep breath and turned to face his brother. One step at a time. 

Izuna's throat bobbed, and he said nothing.

"Well?" Madara questioned brusquely, "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Genjustu?" 

His brother looked slightly startled, "No, I'm fine." 

Madara raised a brow, the coals of his emotions banking as a semi-familiar coldness spread through him, "Well then. What explanation do you have for betraying your clan." 

Izuna's eyes widened, "Betraying the clan? Madara, I'd never!" 

"Then how do you explain what just happened?" Madara's voice faded into a hiss, his hand coming to rest on the hilt of his blade. "You watch a battle where your clanmates are fighting, and you watch from above with our enemy? You admit to feeding him information and conspiring with the man you drove us from our home. Please do explain how that isn't betrayal." 

"I have not betrayed the clan," his brother started, "I may have gone against our current alliance. It's just that... you won't believe me." 

Madara scrubbed a hand over his eyes, "You say you want me to listen to you, and then when I ask for an explanation, you won't talk."

Izuna is quiet for a moment, "Tobi knows about the future. I don't know how. But he's seen it, and it's bleak. He showed me." 

"The future," Madara narrowed his eyes, "He could have easily shown you Genjutsu, Izuna." 

Izuna shot him a glare, "See. I knew you wouldn't believe me." 

Madara let out a harsh laugh, "Izuna! You're telling me a madman who kidnapped you knows the future. You have to know how that sounds." 

"I have a mangekyou, I would know if it was an illusion." 

"So does he." 

Izuna shook his head, "It's real, Madara, I don't know how to explain it. It was too detailed, and too real . It wasn't genjutsu." 

Madara trusted his brother, he did. Izuna was a remarkably powerful shinobi who, in a normal circumstance, Madara would believe could see through a genjutsu. But this wasn't a normal circumstance, and Tobi was a powerful Uchiha with a Mangekyou. 

Izuna made a frustrated noise, "You don't believe me." 

Madara said nothing. 

"There is no Uchiha clan in the future, brother. We're killed, by one of our own who's manipulated by this place. " His brother spits, "A child who murders the whole clan to protect his brother." 

"Izuna, whatever Tobi showed you—" 

"How our clan ends! Madara, I saw how our clan ends. And it isn't in a blaze of glory. We die in our beds, hugging our children as one of our own kills us. We die hated by this very village that you love so much." 

Madara took a step back. 

His brother strode forward after him, eyes fever-bright and pained, "It's real, Madara. And I know it sounds mad and that I can offer you no proof, but I've seen it. It's real, and it's terrible and I will do anything in my power to prevent it from happening. I'll do anything in my power to protect you ." 

Madara swallowed, "I know 'zuna, slow down. Assume for a moment I believe you. How did he make you believe him ?" 

Izuna's eyes darted away from his, "Here's the thing, the things he showed me, they had emotions attached to them." 

"So? The man has a mangekyou, Izuna.” 

Izuna exhaled sharply, his breath getting caught in his throat. "They weren't just random emotions, Madara. They weren't artificially inserted. They were his emotions, Tobi's, as he saw the events." 

Madara narrowed his eyes, "What are you getting at?" 

Izuna's eyes settled on Madara's again, "They felt like memories, brother. It felt like he was showing me his memories." 

Notes:

What the hell is Tobi's deal?
What's Izuna thinking?
Does Madara believe him?
Who knows! But I promise answers are shortly at hand.

This work is Not abandoned, and will not be. I have every intention of finishing it and I apologise for the unannounced hiatus. Grad school doesn't pull punches, and real life has been a lot this past... two years?? Good lord it's been a while. Anywho, thank you for all the support this story has had so far; I genuinely can't tell you enough how much it means to have people enjoying this silly thing I wrote.
____________________
Kakashi: Yeah I suppose you might not be the worst thing in the world
Madara: Really?? I mean yeah of course, I don't totally hate you either.
Mito: *arm slung around Hashirama* These fuckin idiots, wouldn't know romance if it hit them in the face
Hashirama: *red as a beet* ahahaha romance? what- what's romance? Haven’t heard of it!

Izuna: and so he must be from the future! Of course I believe him!
Madara: *glasses on, leafing through a psychology textbook* so have you heard of Stockholm syndrome?